


Falling Slowly

by Constance1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drinking, Eventual Happy Ending, Five Year Expiry Date, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Romance, Secrets, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 81,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Constance1/pseuds/Constance1
Summary: When Harry sacrificed himself at the Battle of Hogwarts, his conversation with Dumbledore went a little differently than he let on. He was allowed to come back - but only for five years. Harry keeps the secret for two and a half years until eventually confessing the truth one night to none other than Draco Malfoy.





	1. I Don't Know You

**'The Return of the Boy-Who-Lived!'**

**Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has at long last returned to the Wizarding World! The Chosen One was seen in Diagon Alley just today by this sharp-eyed observer, but the brooding young man declined the opportunity to be interviewed at this point in time. He appeared in good health and much more grown-up than the last time we saw our Gryffindor Hero; bloodied and weary on the battlefield. The day after the Battle of Hogwarts was the last time in fact that anyone in our world saw our Saviour; which also famously included his closest friends at the time. This reporter is unsure as to what Harry Potter's intentions are, perhaps to complete the Auror training he was meant to begin two and half years ago, but I myself hope that he is here to stay. I know we are all waiting with baited breath as to what our celebrated celebrity will do next.**

_Betty Braithwaite - The Evening Prophet - August 21st 2002_

 

...

 

Harry scowled as he hunched his shoulders and trudged onwards towards The Leaky Cauldron. He had caught sight of the headlines screaming his name as he shouldered his way through the crowded alleyway and it had set his teeth on edge. Less than a day back in London and he was already making news. If he hadn't had to visit Gringotts personally, he never would have set foot in Diagon Alley ever again.

Harry pushed his way into the grubby pub and walked straight up to Tom behind the bar without making eye contact with any of the other patrons.

"Mr. Potter," Tom smiled, looking genuinely pleased to see him. "Your party is already here and settled in meeting room two."

"Thanks Tom." Harry nodded without smiling and quickly strode past the end of the bar towards a small darkened hallway that had two wooden doors leading to a couple of private meeting rooms. The pub's meeting rooms were sparsely furnished and only held a large table with eight mismatched wooden chairs, a large fireplace, and a desk.

Harry paused before the door on the left with the skewed number two hanging in the centre of it and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His heart was pounding in his chest, his palms were sweaty and he felt cold all over. He knew this moment had to come - and he wanted it to - it was just going to be so hard to act naturally when he had a dark secret eating away at him from the inside. He had never concealed anything important from his friends before, which was exactly the reason he had left over two years ago.

Harry opened his eyes and, with a sudden burst of determination, opened the door.

All conversation immediately came to a halt as every head in the room instantly turned towards him and he quickly searched for Ron and Hermione's faces amongst the small group. He saw them standing together near the fire and offered a hesitant smile.

All hell seemed to break loose after that.

"Harry!"

"Harry oh my god, we've missed you!"

"Where have you been?"

"Where did you go?"

"How are you?"

"You're taller!"

Harry couldn't help but grin as all the ecstatic familiar faces swarmed around him. A part of him had thought that there might have been hard feelings, after all he had just up and left without a word, and he'd only ever sent one letter to let them know that he was alright but wanted some time alone. That time alone had then stretched into two and a half years.

"Come sit down, mate," Ron urged, pulling on his arm and leading him to one of the chairs at the table before he could even get one word out in answer to the frenzy of questions.

Harry gratefully grasped the bottle of butterbeer shoved in front of him and took a gulp before smiling at his old friends as they settled themselves around the table.

"Wow," Harry said in amazement, perhaps not the most articulate of greetings but no other word came to his mind in that moment.

There was a murmur of quiet laughter which seemed to edge out any remaining awkwardness.

"So, did you find what you were looking for Potter?"

Harry couldn't stop the grin that split his face at the familiar drawl. He looked over at Draco Malfoy sitting casually in one of the chairs to his right. The absolute normalcy of it all filled him with a warmth that he'd been sorely missing for quite some time.

Seventh year had brought about a few new developments at Hogwarts, the most notable being that a few of the Slytherin students had decided to defect from their families and from their impending Death Eater initiations. Draco had approached a stunned Harry one day early in term to tell him about their plans. After a great deal of convincing, Harry had decided to trust Malfoy and the others and the tentative truce led to a close friendship between them all. Standing side by side during battle definitely forged a strong bond that even now, years later, still held fast.

"'Fraid not Malfoy, that's why I came home," he replied flippantly.

There was more laughter as Draco smirked.

"Does that mean you're home for good?" Ron asked hopefully.

Harry shrugged, not wanting to dampen the mood but not wanting to get their hopes up either if it didn't happen. "Not sure yet," he replied vaguely.

"So tell us all about your travels," Hermione interjected with a smile, clasping a steaming cup of tea between her hands.

Harry smiled warmly at her and leaned back in his chair, fingers absently playing with the paper label on his butterbeer as he replied. "I went everywhere really, visited almost every continent. Australia was probably my favourite, I went there near the beginning then ended up going back for another six months before deciding to head home again."

"What made you decide to come back?" Neville piped up. "I mean, how could you leave the warm sunny beaches of Australia to come back to this," he added, thinking of the dreary weather in London at the moment and making a face.

Harry smiled. "I missed it. I've never lived anywhere else and… I dunno, I guess I was homesick. I met some nice people but I didn't really have any close friends either."

"Aw, did you miss us Potter?" Pansy asked coyly, fluttering her dark lashes at him.

Harry laughed along with the others.

"You seem happier."

Harry turned to Luna. The small blond girl looked exactly the same as when he'd left; still dreamy-eyed and still outfitted like an eccentric school-girl. He smiled warmly at her.

"I am, I think," he replied a little awkwardly. "I hardly knew what to do with myself without Voldemort hunting me down," he joked, pushing away the dark thoughts that threatened the steadiness of his voice.

"Are you going to join Auror training?" Blaise Zabini enquired curiously from his seat next to Draco.

"Erm…" Harry knew questions about his future plans were going to pop up and he still wasn't prepared to handle them. He wasn't surprised that Blaise had asked this particular question, as the Slytherin was nearing the completion of his own Auror training now, along with Ron. "No, I don't think so. I think I've had enough of chasing the 'bad guy' for a lifetime," he replied casually, trying to brush it off.

"What are you going to do then?" Ginny asked, propping her head in one hand on the table as she looked at him. "Quidditch?" she asked expectantly.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Nah, too old and rusty for that." He paused then continued on. "Look, I don't really know what I'm going to do now, I haven't even a place to stay yet, I'm still renting a room here at The Leaky."

"You should move in with Draco," Luna suggested cheerfully, "he has an extra room in his flat."

Harry burst out laughing then raised his brow at the appraising look Draco was giving him.

"If you need somewhere to stay while you sort yourself out then I do happen to have the room," the blond merely replied.

Harry stared at him and then slowly smiled. "Yeah alright, why not?"

Draco smirked and Ron couldn't help grinning at the two of them.

"Well this should be interesting," he commented.

"If you wish to create more headlines Potter, then this will do it," Pansy said with an arched brow. "Harry Potter blows up half of Knockturn Alley in explosive duel with ex-school mate over whose turn it is to do the washing up."

They all laughed and Harry turned to Draco. "Do you really live in Knockturn Alley?" he asked.

"Yes, will that bother you?" Draco asked challengingly.

Harry smiled, undaunted. "Nope, sounds perfect." He then turned to look around at the group. "So… what have I missed?"

The group then exploded into a fast-paced summary of what they'd all been up to during his absence. Harry found out that Ron and Hermione had finally moved in together and shared a small flat in Devon, very close to Ottery St. Catchpole and Ron's family; Ginny was playing professional quidditch and enjoying the single life; Neville was working as a Herbology consultant for a local wizarding toxicology centre; Pansy was a 'kept woman' and living the high life thanks to a very wealthy husband; Blaise was finishing his Auror training and dating a Muggle (Harry's eyes had widened in shock at that one); Luna was now running the Quibbler and had her own WitchEtsy page at the back of the paper for advertising and selling her surprisingly popular craft creations; Hermione was a workaholic at the Ministry, employed as Assistant to the Minister for Magic with her sights set on being elected to office when Kingsley retired - in the very distant future; and Draco ran his own security business.

Harry finished his butterbeer and sat back, drinking it all in as they cheerfully filled him in on their lives. He refused to allow himself to be dragged under by depression or resentment as they happily nattered on about their future plans and careers.

Once they had finished all the drinks and there was no more news to be shared, the group began to stand, gathering their cloaks and readying to leave.

Harry knew he was going to have a tough night ahead of him. He knew once he was alone again, the gloomy thoughts would drift back in and attempt to drag him under. He shook his head and stood, trying to recapture the joy he had felt all evening.

It had been a surprisingly good night. He hadn't known what to expect when he'd contacted them all and suggested a group meet-up to get his return over with all in one night. Not one of them had been angry or held onto any bitterness about his abrupt departure and he had been so relieved. He hoped now that this night was over he could have some semblance of a normal life again, such as it was.

Harry smiled as he slipped into his cloak; he was happy to be home. He'd made the right decision and that felt good in and of itself.

"Harry, when did you want to bring your things over?"

Harry looked up at Draco as he fastened his black cloak around his shoulders. He looked at him a moment before replying. "Is tonight too soon?" he asked.

Draco's lips twitched in amusement as he shook his head. "Not at all. Follow me."

Harry bade everyone else good night before following Draco out into the main room of the pub. The tall blond waited downstairs as Harry packed up his few belongings into his trusty backpack and hefted it onto his shoulders before rejoining Draco and following him out into the night.

"So… Knockturn Alley, eh?" Harry said, glancing sideways.

Draco stared straight ahead of him as he replied. "Yes, that's where my business is located and I live above it."

Harry smiled as he turned his gaze to the cobblestones passing beneath his feet and shoved his hands into his cloak pockets. "You mentioned that your business is security related? What do you do exactly?"

"I provide security systems for personal residences as well as commercial businesses. The system I use is a mix of Muggle and Wizarding technology, so it fools most of the idiots who believe they can get passed it."

"Wow," Harry replied, impressed, "that's very clever of you."

"I know," Draco replied smugly, causing Harry to snort with amusement.

"What made you add Muggle technology?"

"Blaise's Muggle girlfriend has a father that works at a security company. She was talking about it one day and I thought it would be a nice addition to my Wizarding defense system since most wizards are unfamiliar with Muggle equipment. The mix of magical and Muggle seems to be a winning combination so far."

"So you're fairly successful then I take it?" Harry asked as they rounded the corner into Knockturn Alley.

Draco nodded and Harry could see the hint of pride in his eyes that he imagined stemmed from creating a thriving business all on his own.

They fell into companionable silence as Draco led the way to a simple black door halfway up the alley.

Harry was relieved to see that the local shops and patrons were not as dodgy as they had once been before the war; Knockturn Alley was almost respectable.

Almost.

Harry watched as Draco performed a complicated wand pattern, then the door in front of them unlocked with the heavy clang of metal. Harry glanced at the darkly tinted window beside the door then looked around for a sign.

"How do people know what your business is if there's no sign?" he asked as Draco opened the door.

"I have a card delivered to them and only while they hold the card against their skin can they make out the address and read the sign," Draco replied over his shoulder as he led Harry inside.

"Huh." Harry was certainly intrigued by Draco's business; it was all very James Bond.

Harry walked into a beautiful reception area and glanced to his right to see a professional looking office which he assumed was Draco's. There was another door in the fancy reception room which Harry assumed would lead upstairs to Draco's residence.

Harry started to walk towards it but Draco wasn't following.

"That's just the show room," the Slytherin explained as he headed into the office instead.

Harry followed along behind, shifting his dependable backpack up on his shoulders as he entered. The office was painted a soft grey and the furnishings were all white and black.

Draco walked behind the desk to where a row of tall bookcases sat.

Harry smiled. "Please tell me that you have a secret stairway behind the bookcase?"

Draco smirked and removed a large blue book from the bottom shelf. He opened the book to the centre page and placed his hand, palm down, on the page. The parchment glowed bright for a moment then the bookcase swung open on silent hinges to indeed reveal a hidden staircase.

Harry grinned and shook his head before following the smug blond up the steps.

Draco's flat wasn't as ostentatious as Harry thought it was going to be. Harry dropped his backpack into the spare bedroom Draco showed him to then returned to the lounge to collapse into one of the chairs situated next to the fire.

"Whew…" Harry exhaled. "That was a long day."

"Scotch?" Draco offered from the kitchen.

"Please." Harry looked around the comfortable lounge, part of him somewhat disappointed that it wasn't Slytherin green and silver. In fact, it was tastefully decorated in simple muted tones and rich leather furnishings.

"Thanks again for letting me crash here," Harry said as Draco handed him his drink and sat down opposite him.

"Not at all," Draco replied, settling back and taking a sip of the rich amber liquid. "I'm the only one who isn't going to fawn all over you day and night, so I was probably your best choice."

Harry grinned and took a sip of his drink.

"So, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, you want to tell me what it is you're hiding from everyone Potter?"


	2. But I Want You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, I posted the first chapter and then went on holiday - oops! Updates should be more frequent from now on.

Harry’s stomach clenched as Draco stared calmly back at him, waiting for a response. Harry lowered his drink to his knee and his gaze followed as he stalled for time. Of course a Slytherin would figure it out. A part of him wasn’t really all that surprised, he’d never been very good at hiding it when there was something bothering him, but perhaps another part of him had been waiting for this moment to come and that’s why he had felt the need to return home. Maybe it was time to finally confide in someone, someone who wouldn’t burst into tears or treat him any differently than they always had. And at least he knew Malfoy could keep a secret.

Harry sighed heavily as he dragged his gaze back up to questioning grey eyes. “I’m not going to even bother trying to pretend that I don’t know what you’re talking about, because we both know you won’t fall for it. I… I’m not really sure how to say this, so I’ll just… say it,” he said, voice trembling only slightly with the built up tension of unloading such a monumental secret. “I have just over two years to live.”

Draco appeared to stop breathing for a moment, and then he swallowed and was outwardly composed once more. “Are you sick?” he finally asked.

Harry shifted in his seat and took a quick gulp of his Scotch. “No, not exactly. Remember when I told you about my conversation with Dumbledore after Voldemort hit me with Avada Kedavra in the forest?” At Draco’s nod, Harry continued. “Well, he also told me that while I could choose to return, I would only live for another five years.”

A slight crease appeared between Draco’s pale blond brows. “Why?”

Harry’s hands tightened around the cool glass tumbler in his hands. “A few different factors that basically all lead up to the fact that Voldemort inadvertently destroyed a part of what Dumbledore called my ‘magical soul’ along with the Horcrux inside of me. Apparently it’s a crucial part of a witch or wizard, and one can only live a further five years once it has been damaged or removed.”

“And yet you still chose to come back?” Draco asked, frowning.

Harry shrugged and forced himself to lean back in his chair, feeling hot and shaky and on edge. He quickly threw back the last of his drink before replying. “Five years is better than no years. Plus I had a job to finish.”

Draco studied him a moment. “So… what’s going to happen? Will your health deteriorate or are you just going to drop dead on the five year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts?” He paused and then added, “not to be too blunt.”

Harry found himself smiling. “It’s fine; this is part of the reason why I told you the truth. Your Malfoy-ness is refreshing.”

Draco’s lips twitched with the hint of a smirk. “Malfoy-ness?”

Harry shrugged, feeling calmer. “Yeah, you know, you don’t sugar-coat things. I knew you wouldn’t treat me any differently then you always have if I told you the truth.” He stopped and leaned forwards. “Which is why you can’t tell any of the others. I mean, I will eventually, but I want things to be as normal as possible for as long as possible.”

Draco nodded in understanding. “Of course.”

Harry smiled and settled back again.  “And to answer you bluntly, yes, I will just drop dead on May 2nd 2005.”

Draco raised a brow. “Are you sure there’s no cure? Have you spoken to anyone?”

Harry nodded his head. “I researched and researched, and tried speaking to Healers in every country I visited for the first year. I spoke to anyone I thought would have even an idea of a cure but apparently every treatment that has ever been tried has failed or ended up killing the wizard in the process.  Not that there have been that many cases. Tricky magic this soul stuff.”

“And no one you spoke to informed the press of your condition?”

“I Obliviated each one after my consultation,” Harry replied briefly.

Draco finished off his drink and sat contemplating the empty glass for a moment. “You’ve obviously had time to… adjust to this, but…” He looked back up at Harry. “How are you feeling about it now?”

Harry shrugged and turned his gaze to the flickering fire on his right. “I… I’m not exactly thrilled about it obviously, but I’m not angry anymore. After spending a year chasing a cure and thinking of nothing else, I finally decided to just try to ignore the whole thing and spent every waking moment doing everything I could to forget. I avoided spending time alone as much as I could and instead filled my head with other things; travelling, partying, meeting new people, a few odd jobs - anything really so that I was too exhausted to think straight when I fell into bed every night.” He turned his gaze, slightly out-of-focus with reminiscing, back to Draco. “But I can’t do it anymore. I’m tired and… and I wanted to spend the rest of my time here at home with my real friends and surrounded by the things I loved growing up.” He shrugged again, trying to downplay the melancholy of his words.

“I suppose it now falls to me to keep you from falling into a pit of depression and self-pity?” Draco responded lightly.

Harry smiled, emerald green eyes instantly brightening. “Sorry yeah, I probably won’t be the cheeriest of flatmates at times.”

Draco smiled a little then shook his head, blond hair gleaming in the glow of the fire. “I still can’t quite wrap my head around it.”

Harry watched him with knowing regard. “You will, in time,” he said then suddenly laughed. Draco looked at him quizzically. “I can’t believe the only person who knows that I have an expiry date is Draco Malfoy. You would’ve loved this news in fifth year.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe I was ever _that_ sadistic Potter,” he replied but Harry could hear the wry amusement in his tone.

Harry just grinned, finally feeling relaxed, and slightly giddy with having unloaded such an emotional burden. “So, how long can I be an inconvenience for?” he asked, ready to get off the subject of his inevitable demise.

Draco took the change of subject for what it was. “As long as you want, I don’t have any urgent plans for that empty bedroom.”

“I can pay,” Harry added earnestly.

“I fully expect you to,” Draco smirked. “Your money’s no good to you now Potter so I might as well benefit.”

Harry laughed. “See? Malfoy-ness.”

Draco chuckled as he got to his feet and Harry did the same. “Do you need anything before I head off?” he asked as he held out his hand for the empty glass in Harry’s hands.

Harry handed it over as he shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’m fairly knackered so I’m sure I’ll fall straight to sleep.”

Draco nodded and turned to walk into the kitchen.

“Hey Draco… thanks,” Harry said before the blond could get too far, sounding slightly uncomfortable but determined as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Not just for the room.”

Draco turned and a warm smile flickered around his mouth before he walked out of the room.

Harry smiled to himself as he headed to his new bedroom. He barely looked around before shrugging out of his clothes and slipping between clean cool sheets.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of yet another temporary home. Somehow this one didn’t feel as foreign or as unfamiliar as the rest had been.

With that thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep with a slight smile on his face.

 

**.               .               .               .**

 

“So what are the rules of the house?”

It was early the next morning and Harry was seated at Draco’s kitchen table with a large bowl of hot porridge drizzled with honey in front of him. He looked up at Draco expectantly as he held his spoon aloft, waiting for a reply.

Draco turned away from buttering some toast at the counter and looked at him with one brow raised. “Rules?”

“Yeah, you know, no feet on the coffee table or food on the sofa - that sort of thing,” Harry replied, feeling particularly chirpy.

Draco rolled his eyes and returned to his toast buttering. “I don’t have any rules. Just clean up after yourself and we’ll get along fine Potter.”

Harry waited until he’d swallowed his spoonful of delicious porridge before asking another question. “And what are the rules for when you have a _friend_ over?” he asked meaningfully; partly to goad the serious blond and partly because he was curious about Draco’s love life.

The sarcastic snort in response caught Harry by surprise.

“I don’t have many _friends_ ,” Draco replied truthfully. “And I’m only telling you this because it will become apparent to you in time,” he added with a sharp glance in Harry’s direction. “I’m a self-proclaimed workaholic with little to no sex life,” he added, causing Harry to grin. “As for when _you_ have a friend-”

Harry’s eyes widened and he quickly held up one hand to stop Draco from saying anything further. “No, don’t worry, that’s not an issue.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Draco asked, taking a bite of his toast and turning to lean back against the counter, surveying Harry with interest. “Have you taken a vow of chastity?”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Hardly. I’ve had my fill of one-night stands thank you very much. No point in anything else since…” he trailed off with an indifferent shrug and took another bite of his breakfast.

Harry could feel Draco’s stare, but when he chanced a glance up, the Slytherin had already returned his pensive gaze back to his plate.

“What are you doing today?” Harry asked curiously after a few minutes of quiet chewing.

“Working.”

Harry’s expression brightened. “Can I come?”

“And… do what exactly?” Draco asked reluctantly.  

 “Watch,” he grinned.

Draco sighed and picked up his coffee. “Why do I get the feeling that even if I say no, you’ll still follow me?”

Harry put on an expression of feigned disbelief. “You would deny a dying man?”

Draco couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, you may accompany me to work today - _but_ , this is the last time you get to play that card Potter.”

“Done,” Harry happily agreed.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away to finish his breakfast in peace.

Harry just smiled at his back and continued to eat his porridge.

 

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Harry and Draco looked up from where Draco had been explaining the finer points of magical surveillance techniques to Harry over a cluttered table full of wires and metal to see his assistant in the open doorway.

“Yes Rose?”

“Sorry to interrupt but Mr. Potter has a visitor,” she said with a warm smile in Harry’s direction.

Harry returned the smile and straightened up, his back protesting stiffly. He hadn’t realised they’d been at it for so long. He thanked Rose, who he’d instantly taken a liking to; there was just something so comforting and motherly about her, and followed her out of the back room and into the reception area.

“Ron,” Harry greeted, looking pleasantly surprised to see his ginger-haired friend standing by the door.

Ron grinned. “How’s it going with Malfoy?” he asked straight away.

Harry laughed. “No hexes have been thrown yet,” he replied. “He was just telling me a little about what his business does, it’s pretty fascinating, don’t you think?”

“No idea,” Ron said. “He won’t tell anyone anything - top secret, he says. You must be the exception to the rule.”

Harry blinked in astonishment then slowly smiled. “I’m generally the exception to most rules.”

“Very true, mate,” Ron replied, still smiling. “So, I thought you might like to come out Friday night with everyone.”

“Oh? What is this, a planned bender?” Harry asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, it’s a long standing tradition now,” Ron replied simply.

Harry shook his head in amusement but agreed. “Does Draco generally come on these things too?” he asked.

“Yes, unfortunately,” Draco answered for Ron as he entered.

Rose smirked to herself at her desk and Harry caught her eye and grinned.

“Then why go?” Harry asked, amused.

“It’s tradition,” Draco replied as though that answered the question.

“We’ll be here at half past seven,” Ron said to Harry, opening the door behind him then pausing on the threshold. “It’s good to have you back mate,” he added in an unexpectedly heartfelt voice.

Harry felt his heart twist a little but forced a smile. “It’s good to be back.”

Ron nodded farewell to the both of them and left, closing the heavy black door behind him.

Harry kept his strained smile in place when Draco glanced at him but he knew that Draco knew and somehow that made it a bit better. 

 

 


	3. All the More for That

 

Harry stumbled into the kitchen, blinking his eyes blearily at Draco who was sitting at the table, drinking coffee from a large blue mug with faded yellow stars on it.

Draco looked up with a knowing smirk. “How are you feeling today Potter?”

Harry moaned and collapsed into the nearest chair, dropping his head onto folded arms. “Not good,” he mumbled against the sleeve of his striped pajamas.

“I did warn you not to try the Phoenix Tsipouro.”

Harry’s answering groan was muffled by his sleeve. He felt his stomach roil at the mention of the strong drink that George Weasley had managed to convince him to try the night before.

“Never again,” he muttered resolutely then lifted his head enough to peek over his arm at his flatmate. “I don’t suppose you have any hangover potions lying about?”

Draco carefully folded his newspaper and set it aside before standing and going to one of his kitchen cupboards. “This one is on the house,” he said, reaching in for the tiny purple vial, “but if George Weasley convinces you try something else just as toxic next weekend, you deserve to suffer the consequences.”

Harry grimaced, determinedly _not_ thinking about drinking again next weekend, and took the vial from Draco’s outstretched hand. “Thanks,” he said gratefully as he unstoppered it and drank it down. The tiny but effective potion had a very pleasant spearmint flavour that tingled on his tongue and down his throat.

Draco took back the empty bottle and placed it on the kitchen counter beside the sink before returning to his chair.

“Better?” he asked as he reached for his steaming coffee mug once more.

Harry sat up with a relieved sigh; the pounding in his head had vanished and his churning stomach finally quit its churning. “Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll thump George the next time I see him.”

Draco smiled into his mug as he flicked open his newspaper.

Harry lifted his bare feet up onto the chair and hugged his knees to his chest. “So, what are you up to today?”

“Doing a bit of work in the office and then off to visit my mother,” Draco replied without lifting his gaze from the Daily Prophet.

“Hmm…” Harry dropped his chin onto his knees and watched the moving photograph of himself on the back page of the Prophet; striding purposefully up Diagon Alley on his first night back. The reporters were still speculating on why he was back and what he was doing and who with.

“Are you going to be alright?”

Harry blinked and glanced up to see Draco watching him over the top of the page. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’ll visit Ron’s parents today, I’ve been neglecting them and I think I’ll get the scolding over with now.”

“And if George is there then you can take the opportunity to thump him,” Draco smirked as he lowered his gaze back to the paper.

Harry grinned, green eyes sparkling with amusement, once again struck by the warming thought that he’d made the right decision in coming home.

 

**.                       .                       .                       .**

 “Harry, dear!”

Harry smiled shyly in greeting as Mrs. Weasley came trundling up the dirt path with arms raised to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Hi Mrs. Weasley,” he said into frizzy ginger curls that always seemed to smell of baking bread. “It’s good to see you.”

“We wondered how long it would be before you came to visit us,” she replied, pulling back and looking up at him with a warm smile.

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets, looking sheepish. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to… to just disappear on you.”

Mrs. Weasley patted his arm affectionately. “Not to worry Harry, you deserved some time to yourself after everything that happened. We’re just glad you’re back,” she said as she started to lead him up the path towards the towering Weasley household, still just as crooked as before the war. “You look good - healthy,” she said with approval as she opened the bright purple front door.

Harry smiled at the familiar chaos of the Weasley home; shoes and muddy wellingtons littered the floor, layer upon layer of multi-coloured coats were thrown haphazardly onto the wall hooks, the floor rug beneath his feet was worn and rumpled, and a cacophony of noise came from every direction - whether it be from the Burrow’s inhabitants or the strange and wonderful magical items whirring and chiming from every room.

He loved it, and it filled him with comforting warmth. The Burrow felt just as much like home as Hogwarts had.

“I’m glad to be back too,” he said sincerely as he settled himself at the kitchen table.

Molly smiled at that as she set a plate heaped with warm fruit scones in front of him, along with a pot of strawberry jam, clotted cream, rich butter and a pale pink pot of Earl Grey tea.

Harry helped himself to everything as she filled him in on what all the family had been up to in the past couple of years, keeping a content gaze on Harry as he ate his fill.

“Harry!”

Harry turned to see Arthur entering the room with a delighted smile on his face. “Mr. Weasley,” he greeted, shaking his hand. “How are you?”

“Very well, my boy, very well indeed,” he replied emphatically as he took the seat next to Harry and patted him on the knee. “And how are you keeping? The Prophet is having a field day with speculation about you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What’s new?” he muttered sarcastically.

“Are you really living with the Malfoy boy?” Molly asked with interest as she absently pushed the plate of scones towards her husband.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a nod.

“And you’re getting on?”

Harry smiled as he pressed his index finger into the crumbs on his plate one-by-one, collecting the bits of bread and then dropping them into his mouth. “Yeah, we buried the hatchet years ago.”

“That’s what Ron said,” Arthur noted before biting into a scone that was dripping with strawberry jam.

“So what are your plans now Harry dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked while her husband chewed.

Harry shrugged. “No plans yet,” he said vaguely. “Just want to enjoy being home for a bit and then… see what happens I s’pose.”

He very firmly pushed away the thought of what their reactions were going to be when they found out the truth. They were probably going to be the hardest people to tell; they were like his adopted parents and he really wasn’t relishing the thought of hurting them.

He forced a smile and asked Mr. Weasley about his work at the Ministry. Thankfully he launched into such a colourful story of Muggle-related mayhem that it took Harry’s mind off any further guilty thoughts.

The sound of thundering feet down the stairs alerted the three of them to the approach of yet another Weasley family member.

“Harry James Potter!”

Harry winced as George jogged into the room and practically yelled his name into the small space.

“How ya feeling today Harry?”

“George! Why on earth are you shouting?” Mrs. Weasley chastised.

Harry leaned back in his chair with a smug smile. “I’m fine,” he replied pleasantly.

George narrowed his eyes. “You’ve had a potion. That’s cheating.”

“It’s also cheating to trick me into drinking that vile stuff,” Harry shot back. “For about thirty minutes I thought purple icebergs were attacking me!”

George howled with laughter as his parents stared at the two of them.

“George, are you feeding our Harry _drugs_?” Mrs. Weasley asked, horrified.

“Notice how they don’t care if I’m feeding myself drugs?” George whispered aside to Harry with a wink. “You always were the favourite.”

Harry just grinned as Mrs. Weasley scolded her third oldest about being a bad influence and how his thoughtless actions could lead to bad publicity for Harry.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione all showed up not long after so Harry ended up staying for lunch. It was quite the loud and merry group that ate cold chicken sandwiches and talked all over one another at the crowded table that sunny Saturday afternoon.

Harry remained mostly quiet and just took it all in; allowing the comfort of his large adopted family to wash over him and fill him up. He’d really missed them. He’d missed _this_ ; this connected feeling of belonging to a family, like no matter what happened in his life, he was never alone, never without support.

“Are you alright Harry?”

“Hmm?” Harry turned to look at Ginny who was sitting on his right.

She smiled at him and spoke quietly enough so that the others couldn’t hear. “You have a strange look on your face, like you’re a bit drunk.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “I’m not - or maybe I am.”

Ginny giggled. “Me too.”

“I was just thinking how much I missed this,” he added honestly, and then flushed when he realised that the whole table was now listening to their conversation.

“It’s just not the same without you mate,” Ron interjected with a lop-sided grin, and everyone nodded their agreement.

Harry could feel the hot prickle of tears behind his eyes and he quickly tried to think of something else to say. Luckily George stepped in.

“I suppose now is as good a time as any,” the redhead announced grandly as he got to his feet.

Harry felt the irrational urge to laugh as he looked up at the tallest Weasley. He bit his lip and waited for George to continue.

“I will be asking my lovely girlfriend, Miss Angelina, to marry me tonight.”

There was a split second of stunned silence - while everyone tried to decide if it was a joke or not - and then Mrs. Weasley sprang out of her chair with what could only be described as a squeal and grabbed up her son in an exuberant hug.

Everyone else, including Harry, got to their feet and offered their congratulations once Mrs. Weasley had finally released him.

“I’m finally getting a sister!” Ginny cried, clapping her hands and bouncing on her feet.

“Are you going to have a summer wedding? Oh, you should have it here!” Hermione added, eyes shining with excitement. “I love weddings!”

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry as Ginny happily exclaimed, “Me too!”

“She mightn’t say yes, you know,” George laughed amongst all the chatter.

“This calls for tea!” Mrs. Weasley said determinedly, bustling into the kitchen to prepare a large pot of her best tea.

“Don’t you mean champagne?” Ron pointed out.

“Of course she’ll say yes,” Arthur said with confidence, “she’s mad about you.”

“Can I be a bridesmaid?” Ginny interjected.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” George exclaimed with a laugh, holding up his hands. “She still has to actually say yes, and then we’ll be having a long engagement so that she can finish up her schooling before the wedding.”

“What? But how long is that?” Mrs. Weasley asked, sounding deflated as she placed the cups out on the table.

“At least two years,” George said, “maybe more if she wants to finish her apprenticeship too.”

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. There was a very good chance that he wouldn’t be around for the wedding. Suddenly the happy shine that had been permeating the sunny room and all the joyful people inside was gone. This was the first time future plans had actually fallen beyond his expiry date, as he had come to call it in his mind, and it suddenly washed over him just how short a period he had left. His remaining time suddenly felt like fine-grained sand sliding through a sieve; steadily slipping away from him no matter what he did. No matter how much he lived in the moment and enjoyed himself, it would always be there; lurking in the back of his mind, ready to rear its ugly head in moments like this one.

“Here’s your tea dear.”

Harry blinked and looked up to see Molly smiling at him and holding out one of her good china teacups with the tiny roses on it and the gold-plated rim.

“Erm… I’m actually not feeling all that well,” he said, taking a step back. “I might just… er, take off.”

“Oh, are you sure?” she replied. “Is there something I can do?”

Her look of motherly concern was almost more than he could bear.

He forced a small smile and shook his head before turning to George, who was deep in conversation with his father about proposal tactics. “George, sorry, I… I think that potion has worn off, so I’m off then. Think I need a lie down.”

George smiled, looking unaccountably pleased by this turn of events. “Alright mate, see ya later, yeah?”

“Yeah, let me know how it goes tonight.” Harry smiled as convincingly as he could before giving a wave and turning to leave. He saw the hint of concern in Hermione’s brown eyes but didn’t linger to reassure her. He couldn’t.

Harry Disapparated from the Burrow’s front garden and made his way to Knockturn Alley, keeping his head down and hands shoved in his pockets, hoping no one would stop him.

He made it back to the small deep blue and black shop front unimpeded and quickly used his wand, which had been keyed into the security wards, to unlock the door and walk inside.

“Hi Harry,” Rose greeted from behind her desk then frowned at the expression on his face. “Are you alright?”

Harry shut the door and rubbed a hand over his face wearily. “No, not really,” he replied candidly. “Is Draco here?”

Rose slowly got to her feet, eyes flicking to Draco’s closed office door on Harry’s right. “Yes, he’s just with a client right now though… Did you want to wait in the back room? I can bring you some tea if you like.”

Harry exhaled shakily and nodded before walking past her desk and through the door into the show room. He slid onto one of the tall metal stools surrounding the large table that had been cleared of all previous materials so that just a single silver bowl full of clear liquid was sitting in the centre. He slouched in his seat, hands braced on his knees, as he stared unseeing into the bowl.  

“Here you are Harry,” Rose said kindly, interrupting his gloomy reverie a few minutes later to set a cup of tea down in front of him with some chocolate covered shortbread on the side.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully, looking up at her with a weak smile.

Rose leaned on the table across from him. “You want to talk about it?”

Harry heaved a sigh and dipped his shortbread into the steaming tea, the chocolate melting onto his fingers as he swirled it in the hot liquid. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” he said without looking up.

Rose watched him for a moment as he took a bite of his biscuit and munched on it. “You know, you remind me of my son,” she said into the silence.

“Oh? You have a son?” Harry asked before taking a sip of his tea, which filled his nostrils with the pleasant floral aroma of mild Darjeeling as he drank.

“I did,” she corrected. “He died in the war.”

Harry set down his cup, green eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as he looked at her. “I’m sorry,” he offered, feeling inadequate.

Rose smiled serenely. “He had the same disposition as you; very kind and always wanting to help others, but he kept everything close to his chest. Didn’t like to complain or talk about his own problems.”

“And you’ve gleaned that from the one week that you’ve known me?” Harry asked in surprise.

Rose chuckled, hazel eyes crinkling with laughter. “I’ve been reading about you for a very long time Harry Potter, but yes, this past week just served to confirm what I thought I knew. I just ignore all the other rubbish they print about you. I know a good person when I see one.”

Harry flushed and took another sip of his tea for something to do.

“Hope you don’t mind me mothering you a little,” she continued with a smile. “Old habits die hard.”

Harry’s responding smile quickly slipped off his face as he looked at her. He swallowed thickly and traced the rim of his teacup with one finger. “I should probably tell you that I’m not going to be around for long then,” he said.

“Oh? I thought…” she trailed off and Harry glanced up, meeting her gaze and holding it. “You’re not talking about staying in Draco’s flat, are you?”

Harry shook his head.

Rose took a deep breath and slowly let it out before speaking, hazel eyes glued to Harry’s face. “I’m very sorry to hear that Harry. I won’t pry, but… is there anything I can do?”

Harry smiled, feeling a little better. “You’re doing it already,” he said simply, waving a hand at the tea and biscuits.

Rose’s troubled expression cleared as she smiled back at him.

“I think…” Harry began, trying to think rationally and push away any lingering gloominess. “I think I just need a distraction. I have all this free time on my hands, which I thought I would enjoy after being so busy for the past few years, but…”

Rose nodded in understanding. “Perhaps you should find a job? When Draco gave me this position not long after my son had passed, it was a brilliant distraction. It got me through it. I think that’s the reason he hired me instead of some young hot thing.”

Harry smiled in amusement. “What’s he like to work for?” he asked with interest. “He would’ve been absolute rubbish as a boss when I knew him in school.”

Rose’s answering smile was blinding. “You know, when I first met him, I thought he was very polite but cold. A little emotionless perhaps.”

“And now?” Harry prompted curiously.

“Now I know how truly kind-hearted he is,” she replied fondly. “He’s not only a caring and thoughtful boss but he’s a caring and thoughtful person too, once you get to know him. Sadly I don’t think he lets a lot of people get close enough to find that out.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her hip against the tall work table. “What do _you_ think of him? I know you’ve known him since you were quite young.”

Harry chuckled. “That is such a complicated question,” he said, still smiling. “I used to think he was a complete prat and, quite frankly, completely evil. But I guess I’m slowly learning more and more about him, peeling away the layers.”

“Like an onion?”

Harry laughed. “Yes, Malfoy is just like an onion; a multitude of smelly layers that make you want to cry.”

Rose laughed loudly and reached over to snag Harry’s second biscuit. “Perhaps you should ask _him_ for a job?” she suggested, biting into the shortbread and causing a cascade of tiny crumbs to drop all over her fuzzy blue cardigan.

Harry raised his brow. “That would be… disastrous.”

Rose shrugged as she absently brushed off crumbs with one hand. “You need to keep busy and I’m sure Draco would be glad for the help. He refuses to hire anyone even though most days he is swamped with orders and meetings.”

Harry finished off his tea with a thoughtful frown as he considered it.

“He does know… about you, right?”

Harry nodded. “I suppose that part would be convenient.”

They both look up at the sound of the office door opening and Draco bidding farewell to customer.

“Talk to him,” Rose urged as she stood and prepared to walk back out to her desk.

“Hey Rose?” Harry called quietly. “You know not to… not to say anything to anyone about me, right?”

Rose made a silent zipping motion across her lips and turned away.

Harry turned back to the large bowl in the centre of the table and stared thoughtfully into the clear liquid. A job would be a very good distraction, but… it just didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Was working a waste of his precious time? Would only a fool take on a job to while away the short time they had left?

Harry heaved a heavy sigh and propped his head in one hand.

“Potter?”

Harry glanced up to see Draco standing in the doorway.

“Rose said you had something to ask me.”

Harry sat up, suddenly feeling nervous. “Oh er, yeah. Maybe.”

Draco walked into the room and shut the door behind him. He pulled out another stool and sat down across from Harry, grey eyes watching him expectantly.

Harry swallowed. Maybe this was a really stupid idea. “Erm… so I was telling Rose about needing a distraction because of… of everything, and she came up with the suggestion of looking for a job to keep busy, so…”

Draco arched a brow. “And she thought I would take you on even though you know nothing about the security industry - Muggle or otherwise?”

“Erm, yeah,” Harry replied haltingly. “I don’t want to be paid, I just want something to do every day. Not that… not that what you do can just be picked up as a hobby or anything. Fuck, this isn’t coming out right.” He stopped and ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if I want a job. It’s probably just a stupid waste of my very short amount of time but I just don’t think I can sit around and do nothing!”

Harry was breathing heavily by the time he’d finished ranting and instantly felt even more foolish than before.

“Just forget it,” he mumbled, getting to his feet and avoiding eye contact as he made for the exit.

A strong hand reached out and grabbed his wrist as he passed by.

“Don’t be so dramatic Potter,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. “I didn’t say no.”

Harry stopped and stared. “Don’t you think it’s a stupid idea?”

“Yes, but to be fair, most of your ideas area,” Draco smirked as he released his wrist.

Harry smiled a little and slowly sat down on the stool next to him. “But you’re right; I don’t know anything about security systems.”

“But you _are_ familiar with Muggles and Muggle technology.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Is this just a pity thing?”

Draco arched a brow disparagingly. “Firstly, I don’t do pity. Secondly, you won’t be on the payroll, so does it really matter if you are a terrible employee? And thirdly, you may actually have some useful insight with regards to Muggle related ventures.”

Harry smiled, mollified. “And you don’t think it’s ridiculous for me to want a job?”

“It’s one of the few non-ridiculous things you have said since we’ve been flatmates Potter,” Draco said as he got to his feet. “I shall get you some books to read over and you can start Monday.”

“Draco?” Harry called out before the blond could leave.

He stopped and turned in the doorway, one hand still on the knob. “Yes?”

“What is that?” Harry asked nosily, eyes flicking to the silver bowl of clear liquid on the table.

Draco’s resulting expression reminded him strongly of Snape. “That is water Potter. It’s for cleaning the work bench. Perhaps that should be your first task?”

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco’s back as he left, and then grinned to himself with satisfaction.

 

 

 

   

 

 

 


	4. Words Fall Through Me

Harry walked purposely across the room, feeling absurd as he waved his arms around like some sort of mad bird.

Draco couldn't help but snort with amusement as he stood observing with clipboard in hand.

Harry glared at him. "You promised you wouldn't laugh."

"I made no such promise," Draco said evenly as he glanced at the screen to his right and then made some notes.

Harry watched him with hands on hips for a moment before curiosity got the better of him. "Well?"

Draco finished writing then glanced up. "Try again with the Disillusionment Charm," he ordered without replying to Harry's question.

Harry rolled his eyes but walked back to the left side of the room without complaint. After working for Draco for two months, he was used to the Slytherin's less than forthcoming manner. As frustrating as that aspect was, Harry had to admit that he quite enjoyed working alongside the blond and delving into the intricacies of security devices and charms. He had come to realise that providing people with a safe environment was like being an Auror without having to chase the bad guys - which was kind of a perfect fit for him.

Harry cast the charm and waited for the cool trickling sensation to stop before he once again walked past the camera prototype that Draco had set up beside him.

He stopped and turned expectantly, watching as Draco bit his bottom lip distractedly as he looked at the screen and made some more notes. The Slytherin was a very meticulous worker and it was easy to see why his business was thriving. Harry had to admit that it was a cunning move; setting up a security business post-Voldemort and cashing in on people's lingering fear of rogue Death Eaters or new Dark Lord wannabe's. He couldn't really fault Draco for playing on people's fears because there _were_ rogue Death Eaters and there very well may be another Dark Lord wannabe out there somewhere. So if it made him money and kept people safe, and just as importantly, _feeling_ safe, then more power to him.

"Harry?"

Harry blinked and looked up.

Draco shifted his weight and looked slightly exasperated. "You can end the Disillusionment Charm now Potter."

"Oh, right." Harry smiled in embarrassment as he realised he'd just been standing there, silent and invisible, and he quickly ended the charm with a quick tap of his wand, shivering a little as the pleasant warmth flowed over his chilled body.

Draco's lips quirked into a tiny smirk before he reached out to switch off the camera and then sat down on one of the tall metal stools with his clipboard of notes laid out in front of him.

Harry hopped up onto the worktable beside him and picked up his discarded apple from earlier. He took a bite and munched contentedly as he tried to read over Draco's shoulder.

Draco sighed and levelled Harry with a look. "What have I told you about reading over my shoulder Potter?"

Harry grinned as he wiped some errant apple juice from his lip. "How else am I supposed to know what's going on? You won't tell me anything."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him but Harry could see the glow of amusement hidden in those grey depths. "Alright, take a seat like a normal human being and I'll tell you." 

Harry grinned and slid off the table before taking a seat on the adjacent stool.

Draco turned back to his notes, tapping his quill on the parchment with a thoughtful frown. "So… the only thing the Disillusionment Charm will fool is a basic camera that relies purely on visual triggers. The light beam, the infrared heat detectors and the ultrasonic waves will all be triggered by someone, regardless of invisibility cloaks or charms."

Harry took another bite of his apple and chewed as he thought over what Draco had said. He thought about the Disillusionment Charm and it suddenly tweaked something in his mind. "What about a cooling charm?" he said aloud.

Draco turned to look at him, which Harry took as consent to continue.

"If someone were to use some sort of spell or charm to lower their core body temperature, could that fool the infrared detectors?"

Draco's gaze slid to the tiny round camera behind Harry as he mulled over what he'd said. "Hmm… it's a possibility."

"So to provide the best defense possible, the camera should really incorporate all three components, to cover all bases," Harry continued.

Draco nodded pensively. "Yes, I think you're right."

Harry smiled as Draco then made a note on his secretive clipboard. "See? I can be useful."

Draco finished writing then glanced up with a reluctant smirk. "Yes Potter, sometimes you actually use that brain of yours. I may have to start paying you _two_ apples a day."

Harry laughed and pointedly bit into his apple again as Rose walked into the room with her coat slung over one arm.

"I'm off for the day gentlemen," she announced, looking at the two of them with a fond smile. "Do try to behave tonight."

"Goodnight Rose," Draco replied.

"No promises," Harry said through a mouthful of apple.

Rose shook her head of wavy, mousey-brown hair before turning and heading back out the door with a careless wave.

It was Friday evening and time for their weekly "bender," as Harry and Ron commonly referred to it.

Draco quickly scratched out a few more notes as Harry stood and stretched his arms over his head, apple core in hand.

"Do you think anyone would mind if we went to a Muggle pub tonight?" Harry asked.

Draco finished writing and banished his clipboard and quill to his office before turning to Harry. "I don't see why they would," he replied.

The two walked into the empty front room and slipped into warm winter coats. It was now early November and the cold crisp feel of winter was already heavy in the air around London.

"Any particular reason?" Draco asked as he buttoned up his black wool coat.

"Just a bit tired of the media attention every time I step outside," Harry replied bitterly as he wrapped a slightly tatty striped scarf around his neck.

Draco completed his stylish ensemble with a pair of knitted grey gloves and raised a brow as Harry jammed on an old pair of woolly red mittens. "I'm sure we can accommodate our celebrity's request," he drawled.

Before Harry could respond, there was a loud knock at the door. Draco pulled the door open to reveal their motley group of friends standing huddled together on the cobblestones, attempting to blow warmth into their frozen hands.

"Come on!" Pansy whined. "It's bloody freezing out here!"

Before Harry could say anything, Draco jumped in to inform them all of a change of plans and directed them to a Muggle pub that he was familiar with in nearby Shaftesbury.

Harry flashed him a grateful smile before they all Disapparated.

**. . . .**

The Kings Arms in Shaftesbury was a warm and welcoming setting as they sat clustered around two wooden tables that they'd pushed together in order to accommodate their rather large group. It seemed most of the town was inside, escaping the inclement weather to have a drink by the fire or to play a round of pool.

The Hogwarts group talked and laughed, and Harry was immediately swept up in the comfort of having a pint with close friends. They still teased him mercilessly about working for Draco but Harry took it all in stride. Most Friday nights, nothing could ruin his good mood.

"Next round is on me," Harry announced as he got to his feet, swaying ever-so-slightly after consuming too much beer on an empty stomach. He and Draco had completely lost track of time and worked right through dinner; Draco had only consumed tea all afternoon and Harry had only had tea and a single apple. He glanced at said blond but Draco looked his usual lucid and coolly composed self.

Harry made his way over to the bar to order their drinks and stood leaning against the shiny brass railing to wait.

"Hullo."

Harry glanced to his left to see a young man who looked to be in his early twenties smiling at him. "Oh, hi," he replied slowly, mind frantically working to remember if he knew this person or not.

The man's smile only widened. "You don't know me," he said with amusement.

Harry couldn't help but smile back. "Sorry, I'm not very good with faces so I often find myself in very awkward situations."

"I'm Tim," he replied, holding out a hand.

"Harry." He took his warm hand and shook it amiably. "Are you a local?"

"Yeah, Shaftesbury born and bred," Tim replied with a nod.

"Seems a nice town," Harry supplied, glancing around at the crowd of people.

"It's alright," Tim shrugged good-naturedly, "bit boring at times." He turned to face Harry. "I don't mean to be presumptuous Harry but, do you think I could see you some time?"

Harry blinked. "Erm…"

Tim smiled. "You don't have to answer now; I'm just sitting over there with some friends if you want to talk later."

Harry looked to see where he was pointing to a table in the far corner which sat two other blokes. "Yeah, sure…" Harry trailed off as Tim picked up his drink and, with one last smile, wandered back to his friends.

Harry turned back to the bar to pay for his drinks then carefully picked up the heavy tray and slowly carried it back towards his waiting table. He felt his face heat when he suddenly realized that they were all staring at him with little smirks on their meddlesome faces.

"Alright, let's have it," Harry sighed as he dropped back into his chair.

"Did he ask you out?" Hermione asked with affected nonchalance as she grasped her pint in two hands and pulled it along the table towards her.

"Yes," Harry muttered, staring hard into his drink, hoping to disappear.

"When's the big date?" Ginny asked as she glanced over her shoulder towards Tim, her long red plait falling over one shoulder.

"I think it's great you're dating a Muggle," Blaise put in with a wink. "They don't know you're famous, do they?"

"I'm _not_ dating a Muggle," Harry interrupted before they could get too carried away. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with dating a Muggle obviously," he said before Blaise could be insulted. "What I mean is that I'm not dating _him_. We're not going out."

"You said no?" Hermione asked with a frown. "Why?"

"He's fairly cute Potter," Pansy put in negligently.

They all turned to look at Tim then and Harry slouched even further down into his seat as Tim chose that moment to glance up and raised his brow at all the staring eyes.

"For fuck's sake, leave Harry alone," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "Just because that man is gay does not automatically mean that Harry wants to date him. He could be an absolute twat."

"Yes, thank you," Harry replied forcefully, then immediately felt bad and so added, "but he wasn't."

"Not helping Potter," Draco murmured from across the table.

The others could sense that Harry wanted off the subject of his love life, so they fell back onto other subjects and left him alone.

Harry's good mood had dimmed a little, and he sat there in silence, nursing his pint, lost in thought. It wasn't that he was lonely or depressed because he didn't have someone in his life that fit the role of "boyfriend," it was just that he was still a living breathing twenty-two year old male who had certain needs; needs that Tim had swiftly reminded him of with his easy smile and nicely muscled arms.

Harry finished off his pint with a sigh; circuitous thoughts swirling nonsensically around his faintly inebriated mind.

"You alright Harry?"

Harry turned to his left, trying to shake off his sullen mood. "Yeah, I'm alright Luna," he said with a rueful smile. "I s'pose I've never gotten used to people prying into my personal life - even when it's my friends who are doing the prying. I know you all mean well."

Luna smiled and lifted her empty pint to stare at his warped form through the glass. "There's nothing wrong with being sensitive," she said.

"I'm not sensitive," Harry bristled. "I'm just… private."

Luna turned her dreamy, wide-eyed look on Tim, still gazing through the empty glass. "He's not right for you," she finally surmised before setting down her faux Omnioculars and turning back to Harry.

"Oh?" Harry replied with a reluctantly amused grin, leaning his head in his hand and looking up at her with interest. "Why's that?"

"He's not your opposite," she replied, as though that made complete sense.

"My what?"

"Your opposite; he's not your other half," she explained, tilting her blond head to one side to stare thoughtfully at him.

"The Ying to my Yang?" Harry added with a smile; Luna's innate quirkiness already beginning to cheer him.

"It's Yin," she corrected with a pleased smile, "and yes, exactly."

"Oh well, be sure to tell me when you see my _Yin_ ," Harry said flippantly, sitting up. "I seem to be missing one."

Luna's pale blue eyes flicked to Draco just as Blaise exclaimed, "what in the actual fuck are you two talking about?"

Harry laughed and leaned drunkenly against Blaise's left side. "I think it's time for another round," he proclaimed.

"Here here!" Ron heartily agreed, raising his empty glass into the air.

The next couple of hours flew by and Harry felt the last of his bad mood washing away with each passing pint.

The cold night air was a shock to the system when they finally all stepped outside to Apparate to their respective homes. They bid each other a cheerful goodnight until only Harry and Draco were left standing in the dark, quiet street.

Harry stumbled slightly when Draco suddenly grasped his wrist.

"Don't want you splinching yourself Potter," he explained with a smirk, pale cheeks flushed with alcohol and grey eyes markedly glassy.

"You're just as sloshed as I am Malfoy," Harry accused, squinting at him.

"Yes but the difference is, I can handle it," was the arrogant reply.

Before Harry could splutter a retort, the pull of joint Apparation grabbed ahold of him and yanked him through space, then roughly tossed him out again into Knockturn Alley, Draco still holding tight to his wrist.

"Whoa…" Harry steadied himself then glanced over at Draco. For some reason they both found this incredibly funny and began to laugh, leaning heavily on each other in a futile attempt at keeping balanced.

Harry straightened up and linked his arm through Draco's, dragging him as they stumbled along the rain-slicked cobblestones towards Draco's shop and their flat.

Draco made a huge show of opening the secret bookcase entrance to the flat, causing Harry to snicker all the way up the staircase and into the flat, the two of them leaving a messy trail of coats, gloves and boots on the floor in their wake before collapsing onto the floor in front of the sofa.

Harry leaned his head back on the cushion behind him and closed his eyes, shutting out the spinning lounge room. He smiled at nothing, enjoying the pleasant liquid warmth coursing through his body.

"Why didn't you want the twat?"

"Huh?" Harry turned his head with a frown and opened his eyes a crack.

Draco was looking back at him, grey eyes still glassy but dark with curiosity. "The twat. Tim. Tim the twat."

Harry laughed once and turned back to look up at the ceiling. "He wasn't a twat, he was… nice. Too nice for me," he said; words streaming from his mouth before they're even fully framed thoughts in his mind. He sighed and closed his eyes again. "I don't want nice."

"Oh no?" Draco replied with amusement. "What do you want?"

"I just want… sex," Harry replied slowly, mouth seemingly unconnected to his brain. "I want sex whenever I feel like it - without the bother of having to go out and find it."

"Like a prostitute?" Draco supplied, sniggering.

"Yes!" Harry crowed, turning back to him with wide excited eyes as though Draco were a genius. "Exactly like that - except free."

Draco laughed and Harry grinned at him.

"I don't need a boyfriend," Harry continued, "I just need…"

"A good fuck?" Draco interjected with a smirk.

Harry tipped his head back with a groan. "Yes…" he whispered, beginning to feel a little hot and bothered around the edges.

Draco nodded, seeming to agree with him.

Harry swallowed, lost in thoughts that were making him squirm. "When was the last time you…?" he suddenly asked aloud.

Draco stared down at his hands as he thought back with a concentrated frown. "I think… nine months?"

Harry lifted his head and stared at him in shock. "Nine months? Holy fuck Malfoy; you need a shag as badly as I do."

"Too busy," Draco muttered, still frowning at his hands.

"Yeah, too busy," Harry repeated nonsensically.

"You can't go the next two years without at least a hand-job every once in a while."

"That's true," Harry replied very seriously.

There was a pause as they both thought about this grave discovery.

Draco swallowed then turned to look at him, eyes lit with a strange glow. "Perhaps we could help each other out Potter."

"Wha's that?" Harry replied with a frown.

"Well, we both want the same thing, so perhaps we could help each other."

Harry's expression cleared and his impossibly green eyes widened as he cottoned on. "With hand-jobs?"

Draco snorted. "Yeah, hand-jobs - and stuff."

Harry laughed then sobered, then laughed again. "But… you're Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes then shifted so that he was on his knees facing Harry, trying to focus as his vision swam a little with the sudden movement. "Close your eyes," he instructed.

Harry jerked away from him. "W-what are you doing?"

"Just do it Potter," Draco said in exasperation.

Harry felt a rush of alcohol-fueled nerve and did was he was told. He closed his eyes and waited, holding his breath.

There came the softest of touches against his lips as Draco tentatively pressed his mouth to his in a chaste kiss.

Harry opened his eyes and promptly giggled against Draco's lips; his face was just so close - and he was kissing Draco bloody Malfoy!

Draco glared and began to pull back but Harry quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him. "No wait, try again. I'll behave," he promised, striving to get himself under control.

Draco seemed to hesitate so Harry took a deep breath and leaned forward; closing his eyes as he firmly pressed his lips to Draco's. This time the kiss didn't stop and Draco eagerly pressed back against him.

Harry felt all his amusement and niggling moral objections drift into the background of his clouded mind. With a hitched breath, his body began to respond and take over; he'd been aroused off and on all night, and he was unexpectedly given an outlet for it now. Suddenly it didn't matter that it was Draco he was snogging, but a warm and fit male body, ready and willing. He knew he wasn't going to last long.

Harry's arms came up to wrap around Draco and he pulled so that the blond was suddenly straddling his lap. Harry moaned into a kiss that was suddenly open mouths and urgently stroking tongues. Draco tasted of beer and the slightly salty taste of pub chips.

Draco pulled back and quickly brought urgent hands to the zip on Harry's jeans. Harry licked his lips as he watched, then canted his hips upwards so that Draco could slide his jeans and pants down, exposing his erection; lying engorged and pink against his abdomen.

Draco stared hungrily for a moment before wrenching open his own trousers and roughly pulling out his own swollen prick.

They each took the other in hand and stroked as best they could while continuing to kiss, trading panted breaths and moans as they arched up and into the other's fist, eyes squeezed shut in anticipated pleasure as their orgasms began to build.

Draco was the first to give in as he gasped and shot his load all over Harry's fist and stomach. Harry watched in rapt attention before free-falling into his own orgasm, throwing his head back with a cry and pushing into Draco's fist one last time as he ejaculated; adding to the warm sticky mess already covering the both of them.

Draco placed his hands on the sofa behind Harry as he leaned forwards to catch his breath. Harry's hands slid to Draco's hips as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

"That was sudden," Harry observed breathlessly, the warm pull of sleep swiftly drifting over him. He was too weary to care that a half-naked Draco Malfoy was currently sitting in his lap covered in their cooling semen. Somehow he just didn't have the energy to feel anything but pleasantly sated.

Draco finally pulled back and looked Harry in the eye. Harry could see the same sated haziness in Draco's eyes but also a hint of trepidation, as though he were concerned about Harry's reaction.

"I think that was one of your better ideas Malfoy," Harry stated with a reassuring smile.

Draco relaxed and slid off of Harry's lap. He got his feet under him and pulled his trousers back on before holding out a hand to help Harry up.

"Are things going to be weird now?" Harry asked as he pulled on his pants.

"Only if you make them Potter."

Harry laughed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Does that mean you want to do this again?"

Draco smoothed out his shirt before looking up with an arched brow. "That _was_ the general idea."

Harry smiled. "Great."

"Goodnight Potter," Draco said, unable to hide a tiny smirk of amusement as he turned away.

"Night Draco." Harry grinned as he watched him leave then headed off to have a quick shower before jumping into bed. He couldn't help thinking that while this could look like a really bad idea from the outside, it was the perfect solution - for both of them. He had everything he could ask for: his friends, a job to keep him busy, a place to live, and a flatmate who provided sexual relief any time he wanted it, without the trappings of an actual relationship.

Harry sighed in satisfaction as he closed his eyes. He knew he wasn't going to tell his friends about his arrangement with Malfoy; they would never understand or approve, and the cloak-and-dagger of it all definitely added a touch of excitement to it.

His last thought before drifting off into a deep sleep was if this was still going to seem like a good idea when he woke up and alcohol was no longer making his decisions for him.


	5. And Always Fool Me

Harry blinked up at the ceiling, wondering why there was something niggling at the back of his mind first thing in the morning. Something was different…

Then it all came rushing back to him: the drunken stumbling along Knockturn Alley, the slightly hazy conversation on the floor next to the sofa, and then the seemingly brilliant idea to get each other off.

He'd kissed Draco Malfoy. He'd touched his cock. He'd come all over that pale refined hand…

Harry let out a bark of laughter into the silent room, the noise echoing off of the bare, cream-coloured walls. Then he laughed some more. He turned over and laughed into his pillow until his stomach hurt and tears squeezed out the corners of his eyes.

He finally got himself under control and sat up with a face-splitting grin that he couldn't seem to wipe off. With an indifferent shrug, he stood and went about getting ready for the day ahead, wondering how Draco was handling this shift in their relationship this morning.

Harry walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, fully expecting Draco to have disappeared into his office to avoid the inevitable awkwardness of the "morning after," and was surprised to see the blond relaxing in his usual chair with a cup of coffee and the Prophet spread open in front of him.

When Draco glanced up with a tiny smirk, Harry knew at once that there wasn't going to be any "morning after awkwardness."

Harry grinned and turned away to make his breakfast.

As he poured his cereal into a bowl, he wondered why he didn't feel… uncomfortable about the whole situation. Perhaps it was because he only had two years to live and he just didn't think being embarrassed was a good use of his time anymore. If he wanted to shag Malfoy then why shouldn't he shag Malfoy? He'd always seen the Slytherin as an attractive man but had never entertained the idea of sleeping with him. There was just too much history there, and most of it was unpleasant, only during their last year at Hogwarts had they been on speaking terms. Harry knew his friends had grown closer to Draco and the other Slytherins in his absence, but he'd never had the chance, so he didn't have any sort of close brotherly bond with Malfoy.

Perhaps that's why this did work, he thought to himself. They'd never been good friends, so it didn't actually feel weird, more like a one-night stand with an almost complete stranger. This would never have worked if he had tried it with, say, Ron or Neville.

Harry shuddered at the thought as he carried his over-filled bowl to the table and sat down in his usual chair next to Draco, digging into his breakfast with ravenous enthusiasm.

"Sleep well?" Draco asked politely, eyes trained to the newspaper in his hand.

Harry nearly choked on his cereal. "Yeah, fine - you?" he casually bantered back upon recovering.

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched in amusement. "Yes, very well thank you."

"Glad to hear it." Harry grinned before slurping up a spoonful of milk. "Are we going to work on the camera again today?" he asked expectantly.

Draco finally looked over at him. "I was planning to, yes."

Harry nodded while crunching on his cereal. "I thought maybe we could test to see if the cooling charm fooled it today."

Draco set down The Prophet, a thoughtful frown marring his face. "I wonder if we need to bother with testing; if it does fool the camera, the other protective measures will catch the culprit regardless."

"Then why bother with using the heat sensor at all?" Harry asked.

"One can never be too careful," Draco replied concisely. "The more measures we use, the less chance intruders have of deceiving the device. They may get past the light beam but not the heat sensor for example."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "So once all the Muggle parts of the camera are done, what sort of magic do you incorporate into it?"

"A regenerating Disillusionment Charm for one," Draco replied with a self-satisfied smile as he leaned back in his chair.

Harry's eyes widened, impressed. "Wow… how on earth did you work that out?"

Draco's grey eyes darkened slightly. "I came up with that one when I was fourteen. I had certain… items around the Manor that I didn't want discovered, so I worked to ensure that they were not found - even while I was at Hogwarts."

"What sort of items?" Harry asked curiously before he could stop himself.

"Things which were important to me that I knew my father would not approve of," Draco said evasively.

Harry dropped his gaze to his bowl and stirred the leftover milk with an absent frown. "I had to hide things too," he said. "My… family didn't approve of magic, they wanted to pretend that it didn't exist. That I didn't exist really."

"Didn't they know you were famous?" Draco asked, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice.

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "No, I don't think it would have mattered even if they had. They probably would have hated me even more."

"I always thought you had a normal home life, other than the fact that you lived with Muggles," Draco said slowly, as though trying to adjust to this new and surprising information about his one-time nemesis. "When things began to take a turn for the worse with my family, I hated you that little bit more just because I assumed you had a normal, loving family to go home to. "

Harry smiled wryly. "The funny thing is, I think your family probably cared for you more than mine ever did for me."

Draco snorted. "Imagine that."

Harry pushed his now empty bowl aside as he tucked one leg underneath himself and sat back. "Do you think it would have made any difference back then? If you'd known the truth about me?"

Draco exhaled, swirling the dregs of his coffee around in his customary yellow star mug. "I wish I could say yes, but I was a fairly stubborn and… angry youth."

Harry laughed. "Yeah well, I was too believe it or not."

"I remember," Draco replied with an amused smirk. "I always thought you defended everyone and put yourself in danger to keep up appearances; the famous Boy-Who-Lived."

"And now?"

"And now I know that you really are just ridiculously selfless. Irritatingly so, in fact," Draco replied with an arched brow.

Harry laughed.

Draco's expression seemed to turn serious as he watched Harry rest his chin on one knee. "How did you do it? How did you walk into that forest knowing that you were going to die?" he asked, voice quietly incredulous; as though he were musing aloud and not asking a question.

Harry gazed back, unperturbed. "I don't really know… I guess I just tried to look at the bigger picture. All the Horcruxes needed to be destroyed and I would've done anything at that point to achieve that goal, even if it included sacrificing myself."

"I don't think I would have done the same," Draco professed honestly.

Harry just smiled a little. "I would've said that too if someone had asked me the same thing. I think you have to be in the moment to really know what decisions you would or would not make when it really matters. I had been fighting against, and thinking of nothing but Voldemort for so long and I was tired of it; I just wanted it to be over. "

Draco's brow creased in consternation as he gazed back. "I still don't think I would've done it, I have too much inherent self-preservation to be like you. Would you make the same decision again? Now that you know what was to come?"

"You mean my five years to live deal?" Harry asked and Draco nodded. Harry sighed, gaze dropping to the tabletop as he rubbed at a tiny droplet of spilt milk. "Yes. I try to look at it as a gift that I was given another five years. I was ready to die that day, then suddenly I had five years of warning; time to live life to the fullest and say goodbye to my friends." He stopped and shrugged. "At times it doesn't feel like a good thing; it can be extremely exhausting attempting to live each and every day as though it were your last - and then when you don't want to do anything but sit around and watch telly, you feel fucking guilty for it. The pressure to treasure every second is bloody stressful."

Harry glanced up with a weak smile then dropped his foot off the chair and grabbed his bowl, walking into the kitchen and away from the unfamiliar expression of empathy on Draco's face.

He rinsed out his bowl and gathered himself before turning around to lean back against the counter. "Sorry about that," he said uncomfortably. "Not sure how that conversation turned so serious at this hour of the day."

Draco seemed to shake off his fleeting moment of compassion and stood. "Ready to work?" he asked.

Harry nodded, ready for another day in the shop; occupied by Draco's strange world of weird and wonderful security gadgets.

The two made their way down the stairs and through the bookcase into Draco's office. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Rose poked her head in from the entrance foyer with a troubled look on her face.

"Mr. Malfoy? There's something I think you should see."

Harry shared a bewildered look with Draco before walking into the foyer behind him.

Rose opened the front door to the shop and Harry peered around Draco's shoulder to look outside. He immediately spotted a black rock sitting on top of a piece of parchment on the stoop at their feet.

Draco frowned before withdrawing his wand and crouching down beside it, grey eyes examining it closely without touching.

Harry withdrew his own wand, instantly on alert.

Draco cast a few muttered spells at the object. When nothing happened, he reached out to slide the parchment out from underneath the strange rock. He stood up and unfolded the note.

"What's it say?" Harry asked quietly, unable to decipher the scrawled black writing from his viewpoint.

Draco finished reading then silently passed the crumpled parchment over to Harry. Rose curiously leaned over Harry's shoulder to read along with him.  
  


_Lucius Malfoy's son,_

_I had hoped that the rumours were unfounded, that Harry Potter was not actually living with Death Eater filth such as yourself. Unfortunately, I have observed that this is in fact the truth and find I cannot stand idly by whilst you corrupt the Boy-Who-Lived. This letter serves as a warning - if you do not cease all contact with Harry Potter this instant then terrible things will befall you Draco Malfoy._

_Sincerely,_  
_A Concerned Citizen_  
  


Harry looked up at Draco with wide eyes then blinked at the look of excitement on the blond's face. "Erm… Draco? You alright?"

Draco looked at Harry; grey eyes gleaming with exhilaration. "This is brilliant!"

Harry and Rose exchanged a worrying look. "What is?" Harry asked slowly, "the fact that someone threatened you?"

"Yes," Draco replied vaguely, striding away from them and into the back work room.

Harry and Rose trailed along after him and stopped in the doorway to watch as Draco walked about the room, picking up and then setting things down again while muttering intently under his breath.

Harry felt his stomach tighten with unease and guilt as he clutched the letter in one hand. "Draco… do you want me to leave?" he asked hesitantly.

Draco glanced up with a frown. "No, of course not, then the person will stop."

Rose crossed her arms over her chest with a huffy sigh. "Mr. Malfoy," she said sternly, "you are not going to allow this person to continue to threaten your safety just so that you can test your new toys on them."

Harry's confused expression immediately cleared. Of course.

"But this is perfect," Draco said, ignoring her firm tone. "This person is an unknown entity, we won't know what they're going to do or what they're capable of - it's the perfect trial!"

Harry hid a smile at Draco's oddly charming eccentricities.

Rose shook her head, annoyed. "No, this is ridiculous and incredibly irresponsible. I won't stand for it."

"Harry, can you take some notes?"

Rose threw up her hands with a sound of exasperation before turning and striding back to her desk, black ballet flats clacking loudly on the shining wooden floor.

Harry retrieved a notepad and quill from the shelf with a grin before seating himself on the closest stool.

Draco quit his pacing and turned to lean his hands on the tall work table with a thoughtful frown. "Alright, we obviously need to set up one of the Imperceptibles outside the door and then one of the new ones inside the entrance foyer… Are you writing this down?"

Harry jumped and began to write. "Yes sir," he muttered.

"What else…?" Draco murmured thoughtfully.

Harry looked up, tapping one end of the quill absently against his chin. "Is there any way to trace a person's magical signature from inanimate objects?" he asked, thinking of the note and the rock.

"Not if they didn't use any magic on the object itself, which it appears this person did not."

"So they know what they're doing then," Harry stated darkly.

"Not you too," Draco said with a scowl.

Harry shrugged and turned back to the notepad. Who was he to lecture people on staying out of danger?

Draco straightened and took a deep breath. "Alright, let's start with setting those two up and then move on from there."

Harry slid off his stool, watching Draco as the Slytherin began to put together the bits and pieces required for the two devices. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked cautiously, needing to make sure that he wasn't causing more trouble than he was worth for his flatmate.

Draco paused and looked up. "Believe it or not, this isn't the first time my life has been threatened since the war ended," he replied.

Harry swallowed, discomfited. "I didn't realise…" he said inadequately. "I guess I just thought-"

"That anyone cleared with the Ministry would be welcomed back into Wizarding society with open arms?" Draco replied tersely.

Harry chewed his bottom lip, knowing Draco's curt tone wasn't actually directed at him. "Is that another reason why you started this business?" he ventured.

Draco turned his gaze back to the table and used his wand to direct everything into a cardboard box. "Yes," he finally replied stiffly, sounding reluctant to admit such a thing out loud.

Harry nodded and moved to help him. "Well, now I have something else to keep me occupied," he said blithely.

"What's that?" Draco replied distractedly.

"Being Draco Malfoy's bodyguard."

Draco didn't look up but Harry saw the slight smirk on his lips and he smiled to himself with satisfaction.

 

. . . .

 

"Are you insane Draco?!"

Draco rolled his eyes at Pansy over the rim of his foam-topped pint.

"It's actually quite good timing," Harry replied for him from across the table. "Draco's been working on this new, er device," he said cagily, knowing how touchy Draco was about discussing his work with other people, "and now he can test it out on an actual person."

Pansy just stared at the two of them. "You're still insane - both of you."

"I don't know Malfoy, sounds like you're taking unnecessary risks," Ron said, adding his own opinion into the mix.

It seemed everyone at the table was of the same opinion as Rose with regards to Draco's new enemy.

"Oh come on," Harry replied with a grin. "He has me as his bodyguard, what could go wrong?"

Everyone just stared at him incredulously and Harry shared a look of amusement with Draco as he caught his eye.

"As a future Auror, I think you should at least report it to the Ministry so that they're aware of it," Blaise put in and Ron nodded his agreement. The two of them were close to finishing their Auror training and obviously thought that their view on the matter was substantiated.

Harry took a sip of his drink, allowing Draco to answer; it was his choice after all. Harry sat back in his chair, a wave of affection and contentment washing over him as he glanced around at the mutual concern on his friend's faces. All of them were concerned for Draco's welfare and the fact created this warm little glow of happiness in his chest. Draco may still have his enemies out there but he had friends too, and Harry hoped he remembered that every time these lunatics decided to come out of the woodwork to attack him for his past.

"Right, enough of this," Blaise interrupted loudly, "we're not here to discuss Draco's asinine behaviour; we're here to celebrate this lovely lady's birthday!"

'Asinine?' Draco mouthed across the table at Harry, causing him to grin before turning to look at Laura, Blaise's Muggle girlfriend. She was quite pretty; with blond hair, large brown eyes, and a kind, somewhat bashful, smile. Harry didn't know her very well yet but she seemed like a good listener and had a sweet personality. It was easy to see why Blaise adored her.

"Happy birthday!" they all chorused obediently, raising their drinks into the air as she flushed pink with a pleased sort of discomfiture.

"Will you be doing anything special with your family Laura?" Hermione asked after they'd all taken a sip.

Laura smiled. "We're having dinner with my dad tomorrow night," she answered, glancing at Blaise, "and Blaise is taking me to the Paris Opera Ballet next weekend."

"Oh wow," Hermione replied, impressed. "That's amazing!"

"Yes, I've always wanted to go and now I can check it off my bucket list," she said happily.

Blaise smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"What's a bucket list?" Ron asked, frowning.

Laura glanced around at all the puzzled expressions - save for Harry and Hermione's - and immediately flushed pink. "Oh, um… it's just this kind of imaginary list of everything you want to accomplish before you die. It's called a bucket list because it's all the things you want to do before you kick the bucket. As we Muggles say," she added with a small smile.

"That's cool," Ron said, gaze turning introspective. "Attend an entire season of Cannon's games would be number one on mine."

"Not get married and have a family?" Hermione interjected dryly.

"Nah," Ron said then ducked with a laugh as Hermione threw some chilli rice crackers at him.

Harry downed the rest of his pint and licked his lips before standing. "Just off to the loo," he said to no one in particular as they continued the discussion. The topic was making him nervous and he was accustomed enough to his situation now that he knew when to simply distance himself from a conversation that had the potential to turn uncomfortable for him. He squeezed out from their crowded table and made his way towards the gents

He pushed his way into the single toilet and was just about to close the door and lock it when the door began to open again.

"Sorry, this one-" Harry trailed off as Draco stepped through and closed the door behind him. "What are you doing?"

Draco locked the door then looked at Harry with a heated gleam in his steel-grey eyes, causing a sudden thrill to grab ahold of Harry's body and twist it tight with anticipation.

"I was sitting there thinking that maybe I could help you with some bucket list items of your own Potter," he said smoothly.

"Oh? And what would those be?" Harry asked, mouth suddenly dry and heart thumping.

"Sex in a public toilet?"

Harry licked his lips, gaze flicking momentarily to Draco's mouth and back.

Draco smirked, seeming to take that as silent approval to proceed as he quickly stepped forward and dragged Harry into a hungry kiss.

Harry couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped as Draco plundered his mouth; tongue sweeping, hot and fervent, stroking against his own in encouragement. Harry quickly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around the blond as an anchor as Draco turned them around and roughly pushed Harry up against the tiled wall.

They both moaned as Draco pressed his hips against Harry's groin, pinning the slightly shorter man to the wall to hold him in place as he thrust a few times, sparks of pleasure immediately erupting at the delicious friction.

Harry panted breathlessly as Draco tore his mouth away and dropped to his knees, hands fumbling with the zip on Harry's jeans. He rested his hands in Draco's soft pale hair as he watched, the sight so unbelievably arousing that he couldn't speak, he could only watch, breath catching, as Draco slid his pants down to his ankles along with his jeans, freeing his rapidly swelling erection.

Draco glanced up at him with lust-filled eyes before taking Harry's prick fully into his warm wet mouth.

Harry threw his head back against the wall with a loud groan, ignoring the sharp pain of his head hitting hard tile, as his eyes clenched shut, fingers tightening in Draco's hair. He'd never had sex in a public place before and the sudden intensity and heat of the moment ensured that he would not last long. Draco bobbed his head and sucked, using his tongue to lick up the underside of Harry's erection in one firm stroke then swirled around the tip, pressing into the leaking slit and then starting all over again.

Harry soon found himself thrusting shallowly into Draco's wonderful mouth; eyes clamped shut as the feeling of imminent climax began to grow and intensify from deep within him in a glorious build-up.

"Fuck… yes, yes, yes…" Harry whispered and moaned as he suddenly reached the peak and, with a final groan, came hotly into Draco's mouth as the kneeling blond swallowed eagerly around his pulsing shaft.

All the tension left Harry's body and he sagged back against the wall, knees trembling dangerously as he attempted to recover his equilibrium.

Draco wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he stood up; keeping his other hand firmly splayed on Harry's hip to help him remain on his feet.

"How… how did you know that I hadn't done that before?" Harry asked breathlessly, slowly opening his eyes to look at the smug blond.

"I didn't," Draco drawled. "I didn't think you'd mind either way."

Harry laughed then glanced at the bulge tenting the front of Draco's trousers. "Your turn?" he suggested with a raised brow and a playful smile.

Draco smirked and shook his head. "Later," he replied. "Someone will think you've drowned in here as it is."

Harry chuckled and leant down to pull up his jeans. "I'd better leave first I s'pose," he said.

Draco nodded and Harry was amused to note that Draco's hair was quite dishevelled and his pale cheeks were flushed.

Harry turned away and unlocked the door before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. He collected himself as best he could while ordering a second pint on his way back to the table; where his friends were still firmly ensconced in the bucket list conversation. He took a long cool sip of his drink and deliberately looked away with a tiny smile when Draco returned to the table; blond hair still slightly mussed and pale cheeks tinged with pink.


	6. And I Can't React

"Are you sure I can't tempt you Harry dear?"

Harry moaned and clutched one hand to his distended stomach. "No thanks Mrs. Weasley, I couldn't possibly fit another bite. It was delicious as always though."

Molly smiled approvingly and moved on to badger the other members of her family.

It was Harry's weekly Sunday lunch at The Burrow with his adopted family, and he leaned back in his chair with a contented smile; stomach full and mind at ease.

"Did you extend the invitation to Draco?" Hermione asked Harry after firmly shaking her head in refusal of accepting thirds from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry smirked. "Yeah, and I believe his words were 'I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a fork' - but he said thank you for thinking of him."

Ron snorted as he reached for a ginger biscuit. "Sounds about right."

Hermione frowned. "Well, you'd think he could let go of the past enough to join us for lunch," she huffed.

Harry shrugged, eyeing the plate of biscuits and wondering if he could be tempted. "He's not actually that social, and he's working anyway."

"On a Sunday?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, horrified.

"Yeah, he rarely takes a day off," Harry replied absently as he reached for the plate.

"Then you should force him to come next Sunday," Mrs. Weasley concluded, setting down the platter of leftover sandwiches and placing her hands on her hips. "What does he like to eat?"

"How should I know?" Harry said, taking a bite of the crumbly biscuit with relish.

"You live with him," Ginny pointed out. "Don't you pay attention?"

"No not really," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes, "it's _Malfoy_."

"Oh Harry, not you too," Mrs. Weasley sighed disapprovingly as Ron chuckled.

"Come on mum," Ron interjected, "we hang out with Malfoy every Friday night, we obviously don't hate the tosser anymore."

Molly frowned but didn't say anything as she turned away to set the kettle to boil.

Ron shared an amused glance with Harry.

"How is the security business faring?" Mr. Weasley enquired, quite happy to change topics in order to press Harry for details.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Sorry Mr. Weasley, you know my lips are sealed. If I tell you anything and Malfoy finds out, I'll be out on my arse."

Arthur's face fell and Harry felt a flicker of remorse.

"But I can tell you about Muggle security devices in general," he offered, and Mr. Weasley immediately brightened and leaned forward in his chair.

Nearly an hour later, Harry was lying on the cool damp grass in the meadow behind the Burrow; shifting between watching Ginny, Ron and George fly above him chasing a makeshift Snitch, and closing his eyes and enjoying the winter sun beaming down on him. He still felt too full of Molly's stodgy lunch and weighed down by the ensuing lethargy to join them up in the air just yet.

Hermione walked over and lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the grass beside him after helping Molly clean up in the kitchen. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun. "It feels like forever since we had a sunny day," she commented, relishing the feel of the warmth on her skin.

Harry hummed in drowsy agreement, keeping his eyes closed and hands folded behind his head.

The garden was full of the sound of birds enjoying the brief sunshine, the joyful shouts and exclamations from the quidditch game above, and the soothing rush of a nearby stream that was full of winter snow melt.

"Harry…?"

Hermione's tentative tone had Harry opening his eyes and turning his head to look up at her questioningly.

Hermione was staring down at her hands as she fiddled with a blade of grass between her fingers. "Is there something going on between you and Draco?"

Harry hesitated a fraction of a second too long to laugh it off. "What do you mean?" he asked instead.

She turned to look at him, the sun catching the burnished copper strands in her brunette hair. "I mean, are you two… together?"

This time Harry did laugh. "We're not dating, if that's what you're asking."

Hermione chewed her lip and looked back to the long grass twisting between her fingers. "It's just… it's just that I've noticed a few times that you kind of both disappear into the loo around the same time on pub night and… don't return for… a while."

Harry felt a flash of mortified irritation shoot through him as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Are you _following_ me?"

"No," she replied instantly, turning back to him. "I just… notice things."

Harry glared. "Well stop."

Hermione blinked, stung. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just thought that maybe you _were_ together and felt too, I don't know, embarrassed or something to tell us because it was Malfoy." She paused, taking in his furious expression. "But there's _something_ going on, isn't there? Or else you wouldn't be so angry."

Harry turned away from her to face front, green eyes fuming. "I just don't like people throwing fucking accusations around about me, you know that Hermione. My personal life is my own business."

"I'm just worried about you Harry, you seem…. different since you returned, and I wouldn't care if you _were_ with Malfoy, he's a changed man and I think-"

"Just let it go!" Harry snapped, turning to her.

Hermione's expression hardened as she glared back. "No," she said resolutely. "You're my friend and I want to make sure you're alright."

Harry took a deep breath but it didn't help; he was livid with her for ruining his secret with Draco. Their trysts in public places were hot and thrilling - and effectively took his mind off of anything else; which was a rare thing these days as his time steadily ticked down. "You really want to know?" he asked sharply.

Hermione frowned apprehensively but nodded.

"Malfoy and I have an arrangement," he said, holding her gaze, "we sneak off in public places and fuck each other. At the flat too. No strings attached."

Hermione flushed but her gaze didn't waver. "Why would you do that?" she asked quietly.

"Why?" Harry repeated incredulously, "because it fucking feels good perhaps?"

Hermione's expression turned almost pitying. "But you deserve better than that Harry. You've never had a real relationship before, have you?"

"I don't _need_ one-"

"But everyone does," she insisted. "You seem like you're floundering Harry."

Harry gaped at her disbelievingly; torn between hurt and outraged at her insensitive words.

"I'm sorry but it's true," she said stubbornly. "You don't seem inclined to choose a career, or move into a place of your own, or find a stable relationship - or even go on a date with anyone!"

"Why the fuck do I need any of those things?" Harry cried, feeling as though his chest was burning with vehemence, choking him.

"You've been back for six months and you haven't actually _done_ _anything_ ," Hermione said. "You haven't done anything since the war, and I know you earned a break more than anybody Harry, but don't you think it's time to move on?"

Harry was breathing heavily by the time she'd finished. He scrambled to his feet, hands balled into fists by his sides.

"If I want to do nothing else for the rest of my life but shag people in public toilets and stare at the fucking wall," Harry ground out, "then I will."

"Harry-"

Harry turned and Disapparated on the spot with a loud crack that seemed to echo his livid sentiments.

**. . . .**

He stormed into the shop, startling Draco who was in the back room bent over some paperwork, and made his way upstairs into the flat as quickly as possible.

He strode to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, then felt too claustrophobic, as though the small room couldn't contain his anger any more than his body could, and strode back out into the kitchen. He wrenched open one of cabinets and withdrew the expensive bottle of Scotch Draco kept there and poured a small glass. He drank it in one before banging the glass back down on the counter and staring daggers at the bottle.

"How dare she," Harry muttered venomously. "If she only knew…"

"Perhaps you should tell her?"

Harry looked over his shoulder to see Draco leaning against the doorframe leading up from the office.

"I'm not telling them yet," he said obstinately. "I don't want things to become uncomfortable."

Draco smirked. "Clearly."

Harry glared as he turned around to lean back against the counter, the Scotch still burning a trail down his throat and into his roiling gut. "You know what I mean," he replied, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. It wasn't Draco's fault after all that Hermione couldn't keep her nose out of other people's affairs. "This will pass and things will return to normal."

Draco appeared unconvinced. "Want to talk about it?" he asked with an arched brow.

"No," Harry snapped, turning away and pouring another glass.

Draco silently turned and walked into the lounge. He seated himself on the squashy sofa and picked up one of his discarded magical security equipment magazines, entitled 'Fidelis Surveillance,' and flipped it open.

Harry lifted the glass to his lips and drank the contents. He coughed a little at the intensity of the burning; unused to drinking more than one glass at a time. He turned and stalked into the lounge, throwing himself into the worn leather armchair across from Draco.

"Do you know what she said?" Harry continued to fume uninvited.

"No but I have a feeling you're going to tell me," Draco murmured without looking up as he turned the page.

Harry clenched his hand around his empty glass as he glared into the cold fire grate. "She said that I was _floundering._ That I had no direction and needed to get my life together - and she had the nerve to tell me that it was time to move on from the war! _Me_!"

Draco finally looked up as he rested the open magazine on his knee. "By 'she,' I assume you're speaking of Granger?"

Harry nodded sharply.

Draco looked at him, considering. "And if she knew the truth do you think she'd say such things?" he asked.

"Of course not."

"So… perhaps while she is being irritatingly meddlesome, you shouldn't be quite so upset because she doesn't have the same perspective as you?"

Harry dropped his head back against the soft leather with a sigh. "I know she's just looking out for me, but… even if I wasn't dying I would still disagree with the things she was saying."

"Such as?"

"That I need a house with a white picket fence, a career, and a boyfriend to be truly happy." Harry paused and glanced over at Draco. "Oh and she knows about us by the way."

Draco narrowed steely-grey eyes. "What about _us_?" he repeated stonily.

Harry shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling awkward. "Erm… about ducking into the loo for the odd blowjob on pub night. Actually, I may have implied that we go a bit farther than that but…" He looked up with a tiny smile. "She thought we were secretly dating and too embarrassed to say anything."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face in obvious agitation. "For fucks sake Potter, couldn't you have lied?"

"I'm not a very good liar," he replied uncomfortably, "and I was caught off-guard so I couldn't think of a plausible explanation."

Draco opened his eyes and looked up. "So now what? Has she spoken to anyone else about her suspicions?"

Harry blinked. "Oh uh… I don't know. I don't think she'd say anything; she's nosy but she's not a gossip."

Draco shook his head, still looking irritated.

Harry chewed his lip a moment before speaking. "Sorry, I… I'll talk to her, tell her not to say anything, and that we're not doing er, that anymore."

Draco turned back to him, expression patiently exasperated. "We don't have to stop just because Granger knows about it Potter," he drawled, then a smirk twitched at his lips and the last of the annoyance faded from his eyes. "In fact, this could be quite… entertaining."

Harry frowned uneasily. "How do you mean?"

"Now we can send her a wink every time we return from the toilets and watch her squirm."

Harry grimaced and shook his head. "I really don't think I could, she's practically my sister."

"Hmm…" Draco arched a brow, clearly not dissuaded, and returned to his magazine.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, trying to ignore Hermione's sharp words which were still swirling round and round his head on repeat. Draco was right, she wouldn't have said those things if she knew the truth, but it didn't spare him the sting of her opinion. Yes his life was a bit… empty, but he couldn't start a proper career without studying or training for a few years - and then what would be the point? And yes he would like to find someone and fall in love - but he could never lie to someone about his condition, and who would want to begin a relationship with a dying man?

Harry could feel a slight sting behind his eyes and knew it was time to retreat to his room.

Draco glanced up as Harry stood to leave and his forehead creased a little as he surveyed him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, too much Scotch I think," Harry replied with a tight smile.

Draco gazed up at him and Harry knew those penetrating grey eyes could see right through him and he suddenly felt painfully exposed. "She wasn't right, you know," he finally said. "Your life isn't empty and devoid of meaning."

"Yeah I know." Harry smiled sadly. "Feels like it though."

He turned and walked to his room before he could say anything else so shamefully pitiful. He hated self-indulgent wallowing; it accomplished nothing and he always regretted it later. He blamed the Scotch. And Draco's strangely concerned expression.

**. . . .**

Harry frowned and slowly dragged his eyes open at the sound of someone knocking on his door. He'd only just managed to fall asleep a couple of hours ago and he felt disoriented - and then immediately cross.

With a growl of irritation, Harry threw back the blankets and wrenched open the door. "What?" he snapped.

Draco only smiled in amusement at his grouchy expression and sleep-rumpled hair. "I have a proposition for you Potter."

Harry frowned. "Isn't it a bit early for that?"

Draco snorted then pointedly ran his eyes over Harry's cotton quidditch-themed pyjamas. "As sexy as your sleepwear is Potter, I was not suggesting an early morning shag session."

Harry sighed and wearily propped himself against the doorframe. "What then?"

"We've had another letter from my secret admirer."

Harry blinked and then immediately straightened. "Oh? What now?"

"Get dressed and I'll explain."

Harry glared at Draco's retreating back, just managing to contain the impulse to stick his tongue out at the bossy blond. He shut his door and proceeded to dress, too curious to simply ignore Draco and return to bed, no matter how much his soft warm blankets were calling to him.

Harry walked into the kitchen five minutes later, running one hand absently through his tangled hair. Draco was standing next to the kitchen table, a small piece of parchment laid out in front of him. He walked over and looked down at the paper.  


_Draco Malfoy,_

_I see you have not heeded my letter. This is your final warning to stay away from Harry Potter. If you do not comply with my wishes then you will pay the price._

_Sincerely,_  
_A Concerned Citizen_  


"Dramatic aren't they?" Draco surmised dryly.

Harry looked at him. "Aren't you worried? They could be a real nutter and actually come after you."

"And this is where you come in Potter," Draco replied, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest.

"How do you mean?"

"I don't have time to investigate this properly, so I was thinking that I could task you to follow up on it. Use whatever equipment you want from the shop and… track them down."

"Er… shouldn't the Aurors be doing that?" Harry asked sceptically.

"No, then I wouldn't get to test my products on them."

Harry frowned. "But I thought _you_ wanted to do that?"

"I do but I am a very busy man Potter," Draco drawled arrogantly. "Besides, I know you like playing the hero and all that bollocks, so here's your chance to save me."

Harry snorted. "I've done that once before," he quipped.

Draco narrowed his eyes but his lips twitched with amusement. "So you agree then?"

Harry sighed and looked down at the glaringly white parchment and cursive black writing. "Yeah alright, why not? I could use some excitement in my life."

Draco smirked with satisfaction. "The other letter is still down in the shop and you can have this one. I'll leave you to it Potter."

Harry watched him walk to the stairs leading down to his office. "Hey Malfoy, are you only doing this to give me something to do?" he called out suspiciously.

Draco turned to glance back at him with a raised brow. "Would it matter?"

Harry slowly smiled then shook his head. "Not really."

Draco smirked and turned away, heading down to his shop to start another day.

Harry headed to the cupboard and poured himself a bowl of cereal before taking his breakfast to the table and re-reading the letter as he ate; mind already whirring with ideas and possible game plans.


	7. Games that Never Amount

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any errors in this one, it didn't get beta'd but I wanted to get it out - so here it is. There may be some mistakes but there's also some lovely smut to make up for it ;)

Harry slowly strolled up Diagon Alley in the muted light of early Monday morning. He wore a long black cloak over his Muggle clothing, hoping that few people would recognise him so that he could concentrate on chasing up Draco's stalker uninterrupted. He'd already meandered around Knockturn Alley without much success; while there had been many dodgy shops full of dodgy people; he hadn't found what he was looking for. He was also keeping an eye out for anyone following him - with anything other than star-struck adoration shining in their eyes.

Harry paused outside the Apothecary then purposefully made his way inside.

His nose wrinkled as the stench of eggs and rotten cabbage struck his nostrils upon entry. The place hadn't changed at all since the last time he'd stepped foot inside and he hoped he wouldn't be long. The tall weedy-looking shopkeeper barely spared him a glance as he walked in and strode past the ancient barrels full of slimy shapes and dusty animal hooves to the section of the shop housing shelf upon shelf of strange glittering gems and stones of every shape and colour.

Harry stopped in front of the dusty wooden rows to inspect the assorted stones, searching for anything similar to the exotic black rock that had been placed as a paper-weight on top of the first note.

He'd known there was something unique about the rock as soon as he'd seen it that day; it was not your everyday garden-variety stone, and he thought it was worth a look to see if he could find a similar one, and then enquire as to whether the shop kept a record of who they sold stock to.

"Do you require some assistance?"

Harry turned to see the proprietor standing at the end of his row, a suspicious frown creasing his face, as though he thought Harry was up to no good.

"Erm… perhaps," Harry replied as pleasantly as he could. "I'm looking for a particular stone."

The man came forward to stand next to him, shiny black apron crinkling loudly with each step. "What sort of stone?"

Harry swallowed and glanced over the shelves again before replying somewhat sheepishly, "erm, a really black one?"

The man's eyes narrowed. "What sort of magical properties does it possess?"

Harry suddenly felt extremely ill-prepared for this interrogation. It was bad enough that the man _looked_ like Snape, he didn't have to make Harry feel like a complete idiot as well. "I'm not really sure if it does or not," Harry finally answered haltingly. "I'm just trying to find a match to one that was… er, given to me a few months ago. All I know is that it is about the size of a small cat and very, very black."

"And I don't suppose you thought to bring it with you?"

Harry flushed and shook his head. He hadn't wanted to cart the thing around all day so he'd simply left it behind, leaving it up to his memory to locate its equivalent.

The man sighed heavily before turning to the shelves beside them. "The colour and size narrows it down to five different varieties which we carry here."

Harry took a startled step back as the rocks all suddenly shifted and slid around on the wooden shelves until only five black boulders remained at the forefront. Without a word, Harry stepped back in to inspect the rocks in turn; squinting carefully at each specimen. Only one seemed to be similar to the Concerned Citizen's rock.

"This one," Harry said, pointing at it with one hand as he turned to the tall shopkeeper beside him.

The man raised his brow. "That is a rare stone: black tourmaline infused with blood of Re'em."

"Meaning…?"

With another put-upon sigh, the shopkeeper replied, "meaning, it is a type of protection stone."

Harry turned to look at the innocuous stone. "Huh."

"Indeed," he responded dryly. "Are you intending to purchase it?"

"How much is it?" Harry asked curiously, turning back to him.

A slow oily smile stretched the shopkeeper's thin lips. "Eight hundred and fifty galleons."

Harry gaped. "What? Really?"

"I take it that is a no?" he replied smugly, raising his wand and, without waiting for Harry's response, magically shifted all the rocks back into place.

"Er, no," Harry mumbled, watching him.

"Anything else I can help you?"

"Oh uh, no thanks," Harry declined politely.

"Good day Mr Potter."

Harry blinked; he hadn't thought the man knew who he was. Harry smiled to himself as he headed for the exit; he rather enjoyed it when people knew who he was and didn't give him special treatment - another trait the shopkeeper shared with Snape.

Harry was halfway to the door when he remembered something else. He turned and made his way to the front counter where Snape's doppelganger had returned to restocking the display shelf.

"Excuse me, sir? There was one other thing I wanted to ask," Harry called out tentatively.

"Yes?" the man replied without turning around.

"Do you keep a record of who buys what?"

The tall man finally turned and looked down his nose at Harry with dark suspicious eyes. "Not as a matter of course Mr Potter."

"Oh." Harry shoved his hands into his cloak pockets. "So… if someone came in here a few months ago and bought one of those black stones, you wouldn't have any idea who it may have been?"

The shopkeeper pursed his lips a moment, surveying him. "Even if we did keep track of people's purchases, or remembered such things, it would not be information that we would release to just anybody Mr Potter. Unless you are an Auror here on official business…?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, not wanting any of this to get back to the Ministry. "No, I'm not; just curious. Good day!" he said, backing away with a smile. He turned and walked out of the shop, letting the wooden door bang shut behind him on rusty hinges.

Harry took a deep breath and slowly released it; relieved to be back out in the fresh air. He started walking back towards the flat, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, as he thought about the mysterious witch or wizard who thought it was their duty to protect him from evil Draco Malfoy.

Harry smirked to himself, keeping his eyes on the cobbles beneath his feet. If they only knew what sort of activities he _did_ get up to with Draco - they would be thoroughly horrified.

He shook his head and tried to keep his mind on the task at hand; so far he knew that the person understood a little of stone magic - or possibly just used the shopkeeper's expertise - and they had loads of galleons to waste. Harry frowned, or perhaps they'd spent every knut they had to purchase that rock, but it seemed unlikely. The note hadn't even made reference to the stone, as though it was nothing. Harry made up his mind to research black tourmaline and Re'em blood when he got home.

Harry blinked, realising that he'd just thought of Malfoy's flat as 'home.' He hadn't thought of anywhere as home since Hogwarts...

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to see Hermione walking towards him. He'd just turned the corner into Knockturn Alley and she was walking towards him from the direction of Draco's shop.

"There you are," she said with a hesitant smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked stiffly as she came to a stop in front of him, yesterday's argument still fresh in his mind.

She clasped her hands together in front of her and swallowed, looking anxious. "I just wanted to stop by to apologise," she said quietly. "I… I didn't mean to insult you like that, I'm just worried about you and it came out all wrong - as usual."

Harry looked at her remorseful expression and felt his anger melt away. "That's okay, I know how it must look from the outside," he said with a slight smile, "but… I'm alright. I really am. I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing right now."

Hermione looked somewhat appeased by this and returned his smile.

Harry suddenly wanted to tell her everything, the wild urge sweeping over him and creating a knot of nervous energy in his stomach. He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but the impulse shrivelled and died as quickly as it had come. He couldn't do it. Not yet.

"Do you mind not telling anyone about me and Draco?" he said instead. "I don't want it to get out and… and it's just… it's nothing. It's not a real relationship or anything. It's just… for fun."

Hermione blushed and nodded. "Of course, it's none of my business," she replied swiftly, as though she'd been telling herself the same thing all morning in preparation for this conversation. "I'd better get to work, I just wanted to stop in on my way to see you," she added, smiling hesitantly again. "So… we're okay?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, affection lacing his voice, "of course."

Hermione's expression was softened with relief as she nodded in farewell and walked past him towards Diagon Alley, giving his arm a light squeeze on her way past.

Harry watched her leave for a moment before continuing on to Draco's shop. He knew Hermione's words yesterday had come from a place of concern for her friend and he couldn't ignore that fact. He also knew that it was too late in the game for him to be holding grudges against the people he cared about.

Harry entered the shop and wandered into Draco's office when he saw that the blond was inside alone. He flopped into one of the chairs opposite Draco's desk and exhaled noisily.

Draco glanced up. "Did Granger find you?"

"Yup." Harry turned to sit sideways across the comfortable chair, absently swinging his legs up to hang over the side of the soft leather arm. "What do you know about black tourmaline stone and blood of Re'em?"

Draco set down his quill and gazed at Harry with a raised brow. "I know that both of those particular items cost quite a few galleons and are generally used in pure-blood homes for protection against visitors with malicious intent."

Harry's eyes widened with interest. "Hmm…"

"Does this have something to do with my secret admirer?"

"Perhaps," Harry replied mysteriously, a smug little smile on his lips.

Draco rolled his eyes and picked up his quill once more.

"You know… you should be practicing your defensive magic," Harry said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "When was the last time you had to defend yourself?"

"Hmm?" Draco glanced up from his notebook and then sighed as Harry's question registered. "Years ago - why?"

Harry swung his legs back around to face front and leaned towards Draco. "Because if this person is for real then they might try to harm you, and you might be too rusty to defend yourself properly."

Draco glared, affronted. "I'm a Malfoy, I don't need to practice," he replied shortly. "Defensive magic is practically bred into me."

"Oh?" Harry replied, not put off in the least by Draco's huffiness. "Then you won't mind a little test?"

"A _test_?" he repeated disparagingly.

Harry nodded, smiling now. "Yeah, just a quick dual - you and me. Like old times."

Draco's expression cleared and his grey eyes glinted with sudden interest as he leaned back in his chair, paperwork forgotten. "And what do I get if I win?"

Harry's smile turned into a smirk as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared back. "Name it."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he carefully considered his options for a minute. "You… have to… wear a jumper that states 'I love Slytherins' on our next pub night."

Harry laughed and then nodded. "Done."

Draco smirked as he stood and withdrew his wand from the waistband of his charcoal grey trousers. "And _your_ terms Potter?"

Harry removed his wand from his cloak pocket before throwing the heavy garment haphazardly onto the chair and standing. "And if _I_ win, you have to… go to the Burrow for lunch next Sunday."

Draco's smirk deepened with amusement. "Fine."

Harry grinned as he twirled his wand in one hand. "Ready?"

 

**.      .      .    .**

"I can't believe you're making me go through with this."

Harry chuckled as he walked alongside the muttering blond up the path towards the bright, cheerful front door of the Burrow. "A promise is a promise Malfoy," he reminded good-naturedly.

Draco glared at the ground as Harry stopped to knock.

Mrs. Weasley opened the round wooden door with a warm, welcoming smile on her face. Her eyes immediately took in Draco's sullen expression as he continued to stare silently at the ground. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm so glad you could make it," she enthused.

Draco's head jerked up in surprise as she continued to smile at him unperturbed.

"Hi Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted warmly, saving Draco from having to form a response.

"Hello Harry dear," she replied, turning her smile on Harry a moment before stepping back and opening the door wide.

Harry flashed Draco an amused grin before leading the way inside. He hung his coat up on one of the brass wall hooks shaped like a duck and then walked down the cramped hallway to the bustling kitchen, knowing Draco would follow.

"Hi Harry!" Ginny greeted with a smile as she made her way around the worn wooden table, setting plates down in front of each chair. Ron was following close behind with freshly polished silverware.

"Hey Ginny," Harry replied as he plucked a carrot stick from the platter in the centre of the table and crunched on it.

"Merlin's beard… he actually came!" Ron exclaimed in shock as Draco walked in behind Harry. "Didn't think you had it in you Malfoy."

Harry laughed as he turned to survey his flatmate; Draco looked less hostile now but still slightly apprehensive, as though he wasn't quite sure what to expect. He definitely did not appear as comfortable as he did on their Friday night outings. Harry took pity on him and quickly intercepted Ron before he could say anything further.

"How about a game of quidditch after lunch?" he suggested, glancing at Ginny as well.

Ginny's brown eyes lit up. "Yes!"

"Draco?" Harry asked, turning to him with a raised brow.

Draco seemed to relax a little at his words and silently nodded his agreement.

Mrs. Weasley walked in then and began to fuss with the food; using her wand with practiced ease to bring the delicious meal together.

"So tell me again Harry," Hermione said from where she was leaning against the counter next to the sink, arms crossed over her chest, "did you two _really_ have a duel in Draco's shop?"

"You told me he lost a bet," Molly interjected suspiciously, stilling her wand movements as she glanced over.

"He did," Harry maintained with a grin. "I bet that I could beat him in a duel - and I did."

Ron and Ginny laughed while Hermione hid a grin. Draco scowled at the lot of them.

"Didn't you destroy Mr. Malfoy's shop in the process?" Molly asked with a furrowed brow as she levitated the food over to the table and everyone gradually took their seats.

"Please, call me Draco."

Harry turned in surprise at Draco's quietly polite voice and a sudden warmth washed over him as Mrs. Weasley smiled approvingly at the Slytherin.

"No, we used the work room for our duel," Draco answered smoothly. "The walls are protected against explosions and fire."

Harry chuckled at the memory. "We magically enlarged the room - and then cleaned up the mess afterwards," he added, catching Draco's gaze with a grin.

Hermione cleared her throat and asked Harry to pass the potatoes, and soon they were all tucking into the delicious meal. Arthur and George joined the group once they had returned from de-gnoming the back garden and they all settled into easy conversation in between bites.

Harry glanced at Draco every so often to ensure that the Slytherin was alright; he felt slightly guilty for entrapping the man into coming now that they were actually there but he seemed to be managing rather well. Draco relaxed the longer he was there and the longer nobody mentioned his parents or Death Eaters or Voldemort. Harry could see the tension slowly drain from the line of his shoulders and from the guarded look in his eyes. He didn't speak much but he listened and Harry was happy to see that everyone seemed to accept his presence without batting an eye - even Arthur, who despised Lucius and who hadn't seen Draco since before the war.

After lunch everyone wandered outside into the crisp, sunny afternoon. Hermione and Molly settled back into a couple of old weather-beaten chairs with cosy hand-knitted blankets draped over-top of them while everyone else took to the skies for a few warm-up laps.

Harry grinned, green eyes sparkling and heart soaring with exhilaration as he sped around the meadow on his Firebolt. He'd left his prized broom in the Weasley's shed while he'd been away and this was the first time he'd touched it since Hogwarts. He'd flown a few times in his travels - but nothing compared to the familiarity and power of his Firebolt, not to mention the easy-going camaraderie of playing a pick-up game against old friends.

 _And new friends_ , he thought as he glanced at Draco surreptitiously. The aristocratic blond, who was always utterly composed, was smiling in obvious enjoyment as he flattened himself to the broom handle and flew at top speed around the overgrown meadow. Draco was dressed simply; in Muggle jeans and a pale grey t-shirt, and Harry privately thought that the casual attire suited him. It had been strange at first to see him out of his customary trousers and formal button-up shirts, and Harry realised that it was probably the first time the man had taken an entire day off work since Harry had started living with him.

Harry startled out of his thoughts as George suddenly blew the whistle and called everyone to the centre of the field. George split the group into two teams of three, with Harry and Draco playing Seeker opposite each other.

Draco shot Harry an arrogant smirk look once they'd been assigned their teams. "Looks like I might get my wish after all Potter!" he called out.

"What's that?" Harry shouted back with a smile.

"If I catch the Snitch then you have to wear the Slytherin jumper on Friday!"

Harry laughed. "You don't give up do you?"

Draco grinned then took off in the opposite direction, waiting for George to signal the start of the game.

At the shrill blast from George's whistle, the six players began to race around the meadow; ducking and diving and chasing the tatty red Quaffle through the air, whilst Harry and Draco swooped above, in search of the elusive Snitch. The game was played without Bludgers but by no means had the competitive edge been taken off, Ginny in particular seemed to be out to prove just how good a flyer she was. It wasn't much of a contest as she was the only professional player amongst them.

Harry circled above at a leisurely pace; gaze alternating between watching the game and watching Malfoy. It brought back so many memories, watching the figure flying opposite him; wind whipping through white-blond hair and grey eyes darkened with intense concentration. Gone was Draco's earlier affected poise and stiffness - now he looked young and care-free; pale cheeks pinked by the sharp wind and physical activity, and his eyes, while focused, were sparkling with unconcealed joy.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Draco caught his eye then and smirked before shooting off to the other side of the meadow in an energetic show of speed.

Harry's smile faltered when something sharp twisted in his stomach at the sight of Draco's smirk.

He swallowed, feeling light-headed as dawning realisation suddenly unfurled within him: he didn't just see Draco as this abstractly handsome man anymore - he was actually _attracted to him_.

Harry blinked and forced himself to look away, pretending to search for the Snitch, as he tried to gather his thoughts as the numbing cold of reality began to spread through his body. He searched his feelings and found that it was still there; a longing that threaded through him and pulled it tight with want when he thought about Draco. Maybe it had been slowly creeping up on him for a while, but seeing Draco today in a different light had somehow made it clear to him: he was attracted to him. He was attracted to Draco's cool, calm persona and dry humour, he was attracted to his teasing smirks and love of forever trying to wind Harry up, he was attracted to the caring man who encouraged Harry to talk when he felt like it or to be silent when that's what he needed too, who let a room to him in a time of need, gave him a job, and who made him laugh on a daily basis. He was handsome but also quirky in a way that Harry found amusing and appealing all at once.

" _Oh fuck…."_ Harry breathed out, stomach dropping as he arrived at this conclusion.

Harry startled and nearly fell sideways off his broom when the air around him suddenly erupted with cheers and whistles. It seemed whilst he had been daydreaming about Malfoy, said Slytherin had captured the Snitch right out from under his nose.

Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to clear it. He glanced at his teammates who were currently staring at him in shock. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged it off as Ginny and Arthur congratulated Draco on his stealthy catch. Draco smiled in acknowledgment of the praise, looking self-conscious but genuinely pleased.

He flashed Harry a triumphant smirk that was meant to remind him of losing the new bet but only served to make Harry's stomach flutter anxiously.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, and he knew that he was being unusually quiet and subdued, but he couldn't help it, his mind kept wandering back to his earlier revelation. Harry thought that it really shouldn't have come as such a surprise; they had been getting on really well, Draco was the only one who knew his secret and with whom he could talk to about it, and they had been living together for almost seven months now. Add in their little 'friends with benefits' agreement and it was suddenly ridiculously obvious to him that this was always going to happen. Harry knew that he had a bit of a habit of becoming attached quickly and absolutely when it came to matters of the heart, this was why he had always stuck to one-night stands since the final battle.

And instead of all these terrifying revelations encouraging him to run in the other direction - it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Harry suddenly found that he couldn't stop staring at the blond and it was making his heart pound and his blood race. The fresh air and flying and casual outfit had enhanced Draco's appearance in such a striking way that Harry just wanted to rip his clothes off and have his wicked way with him right there in the Weasley's sitting room.

By the time they walked through the door to the flat a few hours later, Harry was a bundle of nerves and drawn tighter than a bow.

"Is everything alright?" Draco asked with a frown as he shut the door behind them. "You've been acting-"

Harry didn't let him finish. He turned and pushed Draco up against the closed door and pressed his mouth to his in a fierce and messy kiss. All of his turbulent emotions were thrumming through his body, and now, combined with Draco's look of concern, were just too much for him to take without snapping.

So he did.

Draco made a startled noise before reciprocating as Harry shoved his tongue into his mouth; tasting and stroking, striving to coax Draco's body into matching his own frenzied pace. With a quiet moan, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and deepened the kiss as he pulled his body in tight.

Harry pressed his erection firmly against Draco's thigh and the blond tore his mouth away with a tiny gasp. "What's gotten into you?" he asked, closing his eyes as Harry moved his lips down Draco's pale throat.

"…quidditch…" Harry murmured against warm skin, answering with the first thing that popped into his head. He could feel Draco's chuckle reverberate against his lips.

"Kinky, Potter."

Harry smirked as he moved back up to claim Draco's tempting mouth once more. This time Draco matched his heated intensity stroke for stroke, an answering hardness growing against Harry's hip and spurring him on. Fingers tightened in hair and hot breaths were traded back and forth. Draco's hand moved down to grasp Harry's backside and pull him up against him, hard.

Harry moaned and instantly knew he wanted more than this; more than their usual routine of rough hands or hot wet mouths.

Harry abruptly took a step back, breathless, green eyes dark and intense as he stared at Draco and tugged on his hand with meaning. He prayed that Draco wouldn't balk at the idea, they'd never had one of their trysts in a bedroom before, only public toilets or the lounge room or the kitchen. Maybe the bedroom was too intimate, maybe it gave too much away of his newfound feelings for the other man…

Draco hesitated only a second, arching a brow in silent question, before allowing Harry to drag him down the hall to Harry's room.

Harry hurriedly pulled Draco through the doorway and shut the door behind them. Draco was on him again before he could second-guess himself or begin to feel awkward, mouths connecting and arms winding tight as the heat joining them immediately returned and flared between them.

Pushing, pulling and stumbling, they made their way to Harry's bed and collapsed on top of it, Harry falling onto Draco and fitting in between parted legs with a groan as they resumed kissing. Harry closed his eyes as strong, warm hands stroked over his back and held on tight. He thrust downwards once, twice, before swiftly sitting up and trying to wrench Draco's soft grey t-shirt over his head. The shirt was tossed aside onto the floor and Draco's hands immediately slid under the hem of Harry's shirt and tugged upwards.

Harry lay back down, skin on skin, and kissed Draco's neck, inhaling the scent of musk and vanilla from the silky blond strands tickling his nose. He returned his lips to Draco's mouth to swallow the sound of hushed whimpers that the Slytherin probably didn't even know he was making. Draco opened his mouth to him and Harry felt the throbbing in his groin suddenly intensify as though merely kissing Draco was going to push him over the edge.

Draco pulled his mouth away, breathless, as he slid his hands down Harry's bare chest to pull pointedly on the button of his jeans. Harry quickly shuffled aside to yank off his jeans and pants while Draco removed his own, arching his back up off the mattress, then throwing everything off the side of the bed.

"Do you have any…?"

Harry nodded, flushed and breathless, as he hastily scrambled to the edge of the bed and pulled open his drawers. He scooped up the squashed tube of clear, slick lubricant and returned to Draco's side.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, pulse racing as he clutched the tube to his chest, pupils blown wide with arousal as he drank in the sight of Draco's naked form, pausing long enough to appreciate the moment and what was laid out in front of him. They'd never been completely naked together before and Harry knew that this was probably going to elevate his feelings to a whole new level of yearning but he couldn't quite find it in himself to care, especially not as Draco gently took the lube from his hand and opened it, holding Harry's gaze as he squeezed out a generous amount and began to slick it over Harry's stiff member in smooth, firm strokes.

Harry moaned and threw his head back as Draco continued to grasp and stroke him in turns, his hips pushing forward into that warm hand with shallow unbidden thrusts.

Harry opened his eyes when the torturous touches ceased, and he had to bite his lip to stop the moan from escaping as Draco knelt up to prepare himself, silvery-grey eyes holding his gaze and freezing him in place. He wanted to reach out and touch, to help, but there was also something so painfully arousing about just sitting back and watching it happen.

Finally, Draco put the lube aside and turned to kneel with his back to Harry, hands braced against the wooden headboard.

Harry didn't need any more invitation than that. He moved forward, stroking his hands up the soft skin of Draco's sides then back down before dropping one hand to his trembling erection and lining himself up. He pressed his mouth to the warm salty skin on the back of Draco's neck as he slowly slid inside. Draco's body was so tight around him that he had to pause, eyes shut, to keep from coming just from the sensation -never mind the knowledge that he was _inside_ of Draco.

Draco impatiently pushed back against him with a muted grunt and Harry snapped out of his thoughts. This was not about rising attachment or feelings, he had to remind himself; this was purely sex.

Harry drove the rest of the way in with one firm push, causing them both to moan aloud into the quiet room. He didn't even pause to allow Draco time to adjust, he began to pump his hips in earnest, skin heating and turning sticky. Draco had his eyes clenched shut and head thrown back in pleasure as Harry continued his assault.

He could already feel his orgasm fast approaching, so Harry quickly reached around to grasp ahold of Draco's erection; so hard and stiff that it was curving straight up towards his belly and leaking copiously. Harry stroked with practiced ease, already knowing just how to squeeze and twist on each upward motion in order to get Draco off.

Suddenly Draco was crying out, cock spurting hotly over Harry's fist and headboard. Harry groaned at the feel of Draco pulsing in his hand while simultaneously pumping his own cock into that tight heat. A few more erratic thrusts and Harry was stilling as he bit his lip and emptied himself inside of Draco.

He collapsed forward, draping himself on Draco's back, mouth panting hot breaths onto the skin of Draco's shoulder blades while Draco leaned his forehead on the wall, eyes closed and breathless. They remained that way for a minute, catching their breath, before Harry pulled out on shaky legs and knelt back on the bed.

Draco swallowed visibly as he turned to sit on the edge of the mattress, face flushed pink and hair mussed. He glanced at Harry with a tired smirk. "Wow Potter, you're not a bad shag," he teased.

Harry snorted and ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair. "Thanks," he replied dryly as Draco began to gather up his discarded clothing.

Harry watched with a sinking heart as Draco pulled on his pants and t-shirt, then held onto the rest of his clothing as he walked to the door and opened it. He didn't even bother turning around as he called over his shoulder, "until next time Potter."

Harry dropped his head into his hands as the door clicked shut behind him. This was their deal - he knew that. They got off and then went their separate ways. But he didn't want that this time, he wanted Draco to stay in his bed for the rest of the night and to wake up beside him tomorrow morning in a tangle of naked limbs and easy, sleep-tinged smiles - and being alone right now just felt profoundly wrong. He felt hollow and bereft down to his very core.

He slid his fingers into his hair and tightened them around the thick, jet-black strands, eyes clenched shut.

This was more than just a crush and he knew it. This was more than just being attracted to a man who had been a steady-welcoming-wonderful presence in his life for the past seven months. This was more - _much_ more.

And he didn't know what to do about it.

This was going to be messy and painful and awful…

Harry opened his eyes and slowly raised his head, staring unseeing at the far wall.

And yet… it could be thrilling and magnificent and wonderful too - if he let it.

Harry felt his heart lift and a soft smile bloomed on his face. Draco wasn't aware of his inner turmoil, he had no idea that Harry was falling for him and that actual feelings were now involved - so what harm could it do to continue? While it would be impossible for him to pretend that they were in a real relationship, Harry could at least allow himself the freedom to _feel_ and just enjoy spending time with Draco. Sure they may not ever spend the night together, but everything else was perfect, wasn't it?

Harry nodded to himself, determined. Draco need never know that he was in love with him. He would take this secret to the grave and Draco could live out the rest of his life none-the-wiser.


	8. To More Than They're Meant

Harry eyed the organic Muggle café from across the street with a raised brow. It was the last place he ever would've expected Pansy Parkinson to suggest when he had owled her to meet up.

He quickly strode across Marylebone High Street, hunching his shoulders against the slight chill in the air in his light-weight olive green coat. He ducked through the door into The Natural Kitchen and looked around. He spotted the raven-haired witch sitting in the far corner next to the window and weaved his way through the weekday lunch visitors to pull out the chair opposite her.

"Hello Potter," she greeted with an appraising look. "Don't you look dashing today."

Harry gave her a sceptical look as he sat down and pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

Pansy smirked in a way that Harry was beginning to think of as a Slytherin trademark, and leaned back in her chair. Her lips were painted a bright pink which were quite striking with her pale skin and dark hair. "You really can't take a compliment, can you Potter? It's true; you look very handsome today in your Muggle attire. Very trendy." She narrowed her eyes and leaned in. "Taking fashion advice from a certain blond flatmate by any chance?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hardly, I just prefer Muggle clothing and buy whatever's comfortable."

"Hmm…" Pansy eyed him dubiously but let the subject drop. "So, what is it you want from me?" she asked, resuming her customary posh, clipped tone.

"Who says I want anything?" Harry responded with a smile before taking a sip of water.

"Because we never socialise without the rest of the group," she replied matter-of-factly, flicking her long hair over one shoulder.

"Maybe I just want to get to know you?" he said. "Like, for instance, what made you choose a Muggle café today?"

Pansy pursed her lips, looking slightly impatient; she was the type that always preferred to get straight to the point and not dance around a subject with small talk. "I generally stay out of wizarding London unless I'm with a group," she replied briskly. "My family is still not exactly well-liked and I'm tired of the stares and whispers that follow me around. Having lunch with Harry Potter in Diagon Alley is not on my wish list - nor is it on yours I imagine Potter."

Harry shrugged. "I couldn't care less what people thought of who I hang out with."

They paused as the waitress came by to take their order. Harry requested the fish and chips and an orange juice while Pansy ordered a sparkling mineral water and the detox salad.

"I can't believe people are still holding onto that shit," Harry continued once the waitress had left. "Draco mentioned the same thing, that's sort of why I'm here actually."

"Oh?" Pansy arched a brow as she took a sip of her water, the obscenely large diamond of her wedding ring flashing in the mid-day sun streaming in through the window beside them.

Harry leaned in, resting his forearms on the table in front of him. "Draco's stalker left another note yesterday morning."

"Has Draco seen it?"

Harry nodded and retrieved the crumpled parchment from his pocket. He handed it over to her without a word.

Pansy opened the note and read it aloud with narrowed eyes. "Watch your back Malfoy - that's it?" she asked, glancing up at Harry.

"Yeah." Harry took the note back again and slipped it into his pocket. "We haven't had one for a while and then this showed up. I'm worried that they're getting serious now and that Draco might be in a bit of danger. And the idiot won't practice his defensive magic like I…" Harry trailed off as a slow smile suddenly spread across Pansy's face. "What?"

"You've got the hots for Draco," she said, eyes sparkling.

"What makes you say that?" Harry replied defensively.

"Several reasons, darling." Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. "Firstly, you said 'we' as though you and Draco are one entity, and secondly, you seem overly concerned for Draco's welfare."

Harry heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, gaze flicking out the window then back again. "Yeah, alright, I do. Like him. A lot," he admitted haltingly. "But he doesn't know and I'm asking you not to tell him, okay?"

Pansy took in the solemn look in Harry's green eyes and nodded. "My lips are sealed Potter," she finally said.

Harry could hear the sincerity in her tone and nodded appreciatively. "Thanks."

"You know, Potter, Draco has been taking care of himself for a long while now, I'm sure he'll be fine," she said, placating.

"But he's never had someone go after him directly like this, has he?" Harry pressed. "Not since the war."

Their food arrived then and they waited until the waitress left them alone before resuming their conversation.

"No, he hasn't," Pansy allowed as she speared some salad onto her fork. "But he's a Malfoy and he runs a _security company_ , I think he can handle himself. Plus he has you, the great Saviour of the Wizarding World, as his wannabe boyfriend looking out for him."

Harry glared as he bit into one of the freshly cooked chips and chewed.

"So… how long have you had the warm and fuzzies for our Draco then?" she asked slyly, slipping a forkful of salad in between smirking pink lips.

Harry looked down at his plate, using his knife and fork to separate the pieces of steaming fish so that they could cool as he mumbled, "about two months."

Pansy's eyes widened as she gasped aloud, drawing attention from the nearby tables and causing Harry's cheeks to flush. " _What_?! How did I not notice?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "How has _Draco_ not noticed?"

Harry frowned. "Because I don't _want_ him to notice, and he's been very preoccupied with a large order for the past few weeks."

Pansy waved her hand in the air. "Entirely beside the point," she dismissed. "I'm going to have to watch you two carefully now; see if Draco is just as smitten."

"He's not," Harry replied firmly.

"How do you know?" Pansy asked, taking a sip of her water. "He's very good at hiding his emotions; he is a Slytherin after all."

Harry rolled his eyes as he dipped his chip into some red sauce. "I'm so tired of this Slytherin and Gryffindor personality bollocks. I was supposed to be sorted into Slytherin but chose Gryffindor instead, so really, it's total crap."

Pansy choked on her drink and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her expression.

"You would've been eaten alive Potter," she declared once she'd recovered.

Harry just shrugged and popped another chip into his mouth.

"So, what is it you require _my_ assistance for?" Pansy asked after a few minutes of silent chewing.

Harry wrapped his hands around his cold glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, watching the tiny droplets of condensation run down onto his fingers. "The first note was delivered with a stone made of black tourmaline and blood of Re'em," he said, gaze flicking back up to her face. "And I know it's generally used in pureblood homes for protection, so I thought maybe you could help me narrow down which traditional families might be likely to become involved in something like this."

Pansy slowly sat back in her chair, expression thoughtfully calculating and eyes narrowed. "Hmm… excellent deduction Potter, but why not just ask Draco? He grew up with all the same traditional rot that I was brought up on."

"Because he's working on that large order and I don't wish to bother him right now. Plus," he added with a smile, "he asked me to look into it for him."

"So he's getting you to do his dirty work for him?" she asked in amusement. "Are you the new Goyle?"

"Something like that," Harry laughed and she smiled back, a feeling of camaraderie coming over him as their eyes met.

"So…" Pansy swirled the water in her glass, expression suddenly contemplative. "You're looking for a Pureblood who has it in for Draco Malfoy and who wishes to protect Harry Potter? It's an odd combination, don't you think?"

"How so?" Harry asked before taking a bite of fish drenched in lemon juice.

"Well, a vast majority of pureblood families were either not on your side or remained neutral during the war. I can't see very many of them being protective of you now, _after_ the war, and wishing to harm Draco as well. Also, the pureblood families that _were_ on your side, such as the Weasley's, wouldn't still be out for Draco's blood once the Ministry had officially deemed him fit for society, would they? Especially not after you vouched for him yourself."

Harry paused. "You're right, that is strange. I hadn't quite thought of it like that before."

Pansy nodded, still looking deep in thought. "So we can rule out all the pureblood families that were against you. It's obviously someone who cares enough about your wellbeing to look out for you and to even risk Auror investigation." She paused and narrowed her eyes at him across the table. "Is there any reason you're not alerting the Aurors about this? It seems to me that it has gone beyond just an idle threat."

Harry sighed, gazing at his half-empty plate with a frown. "I thought about it, but… I don't personally know any of the Aurors, and I don't want anyone to brush the matter aside or even hide evidence because of discrimination. If Draco - and you - are still being treated poorly by complete strangers, then I'd hate to see the same prejudice in the Ministry, and we both know that it's a distinct possibility. I was hoping to perhaps have Ron and Blaise keep an eye on the situation when they officially join the Aurors in a few months. I know I can trust them."

Pansy tilted her head to one side as she looked at him speculatively. "You know, you really are disgustingly virtuous. Either that or you _really_ love Draco."

Harry felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment and quickly took a gulp of orange juice as a distraction.

Pansy smirked in amusement then pushed her plate aside. "I shall do what I can Potter and speak to a few of my remaining contacts to the Purebloods out there, see if I find anything suspicious."

Harry looked up with a small smile. "Thank you. And don't do anything reckless, don't let anyone know what you're doing, just if you hear anything dodgy let me know and I can look into it."

"Of course," Pansy replied with an arched brow, "I don't take risks. I'm not as selfless as you, Harry Potter."

Harry grinned and ate another chip before pushing his plate aside and sitting back in his chair.

"Are you going to Ron and Blaise's end of training party?" she asked as she absently signaled the waitress over to pay.

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"Bringing a date?" she asked, smirking at him as she handed over a shiny Muggle credit card to the waiting server.

Harry shook his head in amusement. "No I am not."

"Pity." Pansy thanked the waitress before slipping her card back into her purse and dropping it into the black designer handbag at her feet. "For what it's worth Potter, I really do think that you and Draco would make a good couple."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, that even _sounds_ ridiculous."

"Not so," Pansy refuted seriously. "He seems… happier lately, and you've certainly managed to get him to leave the office a lot more since you started living with him."

Harry shrugged and averted his gaze. He didn't want to hear these things; he didn't want any glimmer of hope that Draco may return his feelings. Having feelings for Draco was one thing, but if Draco was developing feelings for him - a man with a death sentence - it wouldn't be fair, and Harry wouldn't be able to live with himself. It would be the exact situation he'd been steadfastly avoiding for the past few years.

"Please don't say anything to him," Harry eventually said quietly.

Pansy pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue or perhaps ask more questions, but she finally nodded and reached down to collect her bag from the floor.

"A promise is a promise Potter," she said as she stood.

Harry got to his feet and walked her to the door. "Thanks for lunch," he said with a grateful smile as they paused on the footpath outside, preparing to part ways.

"It's nothing," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand and Harry noticed that her lipstick perfectly matched her bright pink nail polish. "I'll owl you if I find anything."

Harry watched her walk off, smiling in amusement as he noticed all the male heads turning her way.

 

**.      .       .      .**

 

"Congratulations mate," Harry said, grinning widely at his friend who was looking slightly flushed with drink and happiness.

"Thanks Harry," Ron replied, beaming. "I can't believe I actually made it."

Blaise laughed and clinked his beer bottle against Ron's in concurrence. The three of them were standing in Ron and Hermione's lounge room, which was currently crowded with their closest friends. It was early September and the whole group had just returned from Ron and Blaise's official finishing ceremony at the Ministry and were now continuing the celebration with drinks and good food.

"What about you Harry?" Blaise asked with a smile. "Now that you've seen how easy it is, are you going to enter the training program? I'm sure they'd cut your required training time down to one year - with you being the Chosen One and all."

Harry shook his head with a smile. "Nah, I think I'll leave that stuff up to your lot now."

"Any ideas for a possible career yet?" Ron asked before downing the rest of his beer.

Harry shrugged and looked away. He was beginning to think that maybe he should take something up just to get people to stop asking. "I was thinking of doing something creative… maybe writing," he said, turning back to them.

"Like… a Harry Potter autobiography?" Blaise teased.

"Are you writing your memoirs Harry?" Luna interjected with interest, having overheard them as she was walking past.

"Merlin no," Harry exclaimed, scrunching his face up in disgust. "Please do not start that rumour."

"You would make a _fortune_ mate!" Ron said, eyes widening with enthusiastic fervour. "Imagine it; the true tale of Harry Potter's childhood and how he brought down the darkest wizard of our time - in Harry Potter's own words!"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Never!"

"I don't know Potter, Ron may be right," Blaise interjected thoughtfully. "Every witch and wizard in our world would probably buy a copy."

"I would buy it," Luna agreed solemnly. "But you couldn't write it yet, Harry, you may still accomplish further notable feats."

"Yeah like catching Draco's stalker," Ron laughed while cracking open another bottle of beer.

"Or, you know, have a library named after you," Blaise added with a chuckle.

Harry shivered in revulsion at the very thought; he hated meaningless dedications like that. He took a drink from his own beer as a feeling of dread washed over him. It was very likely that shit like that _was_ going to happen after his death. Perhaps he could write it into his will that he refused to have any landmarks named after him. It's _his_ name after all; he should be able to do with it what he likes.

He stared down into his bottle. He was down to only one year and eight months left… he really should get on to writing his will. It was such a depressingly gloomy task at his age…

Harry forced himself to look back up and try to rejoin the conversation that had been continuing on around him in his distractedly morose state.

His gaze met Luna's wide, pale blue eyes and he froze. She looked even more pale than usual and she was staring at him in horror - as though shell-shocked. As though she'd just been given some horribly alarming news…

"Luna, want to get some food?" Harry asked pleasantly as he reached out and took her hand. "Come on."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry pulled her by the arm away from Ron and Blaise, who luckily hadn't noticed anything amiss. He led her past the crowd of guests, through the kitchen - setting his beer down as he walked past the counter - and out the back door into the garden. He released her hand once they were far enough away from the house that they wouldn't be overheard and turned to face her, expression focussed.

"What do you know?" he demanded without preamble.

Luna swallowed and stared at him with the same wide-eyed expression she'd sported inside. "Harry, I… Sometimes I read people's thoughts quite without meaning to. You suddenly looked so sad and I just…reacted. Accidentally." She blinked and stared at him a moment before quietly asking, "are you really dying?"

Harry sighed and ran both of his hands through his hair, feeling as though things were suddenly spiralling out of his control. He looked back up at her with reluctant inevitability; he couldn't lie his way out of this. Not to Luna. "Yes, I am," he finally replied roughly.

Harry had to look away as obvious sorrow filled her usually joyful eyes.

"Are you sick? Why haven't you told anyone?"

Harry exhaled, a sharp pain squeezing his chest. "I'm not sick," he forced himself to say, still not meeting her eyes. "I was given five years to live after Voldemort died and that's up in just over a year and a half now. I _was_ planning on telling everyone, just… not yet. I wanted things to be normal for as long as possible. Selfish I know, but…" he trailed off with a shrug, staring hard at the ground.

Harry startled when he suddenly felt two arms wrap around him and hold on tight. He returned Luna's hug after only a split second of hesitation and laid his cheek on top of her soft blonde hair, his chest once again squeezing painfully with the sudden build-up of emotion which he desperately tried to stave off.

"Draco knows," he said quietly, needing to say something - _anything_ \- to break the heavy silence. "But he's the only one - other than you."

Luna pulled back and absently wiped her cheeks as she took a step backward. "I won't tell anyone, Harry," she said, then added softly, "you really should tell your closest friends though."

Harry swallowed. "I will, soon," he assured her. "It's just… telling Ron and Hermione will be… tough," he said, voice catching on the words. "They're practically family and we've been through so much together…"

Luna nodded in understanding. "How did Draco take it?" she asked.

A reluctant smile tugged at Harry's lips, desolation lifting slightly at the memory. "In typical Malfoy fashion: unflappably cool and blasé."

Luna smiled at that, her large blue eyes still a little glassy. "I'm happy you have someone to talk to."

Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah, he's been surprisingly considerate actually."

Luna's smile widened a little. "There's more depth to him than people give him credit for, isn't there Harry?"

Harry began to nod in agreement then suddenly stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean?" he asked warily, suddenly remembering her 'accidental' bouts of mind reading.

Luna smiled vaguely, her eyes no longer full of sorrow but sparkling with their usual inexplicable eccentricity. "I simply believe that he's a good friend for you."

"Luna…" Harry started warningly.

"Oh, there you are."

The two of them looked over to see Ron standing in the half open doorway of the house.

"What's up?" Harry called back, hoping his voice sounded natural.

"Food's ready!"

Luna glanced at Harry with a gentle smile before heading back towards the party.

"Hey Ron," Harry said as he trailed after her towards the house. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." Ron waited for Luna to pass through the doorway before stepping outside and allowing the door to swing shut behind him. "What's going on? What were you and Luna up to out here?" he inquired, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

Harry laughed. "Not my type mate," he replied, grinning. "I just wanted to talk to you about Draco's stalker."

"Oh?" Ron's expression sobered as he folded his arms over his chest and waited for Harry to continue.

"Yeah, I didn't want to turn the matter over to the Aurors because… well because I still don't trust entirely the Ministry. Draco and Pansy still receive a lot of hostility for the past and I was worried that the Auror department wouldn't be any different. But now that you and Blaise will be in there…"

Ron's expression cleared. "Ah I see, you want Blaise and me to be men on the inside for you? Do a little snooping?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, something like that," he said. "I just have a feeling that this person, whoever they are, is getting fed up and might do something stupid soon."

"Something stupid as in… assault Malfoy?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah alright, we can run some checks. I'm not sure when we'll get a chance; we'll probably be shadowing other Aurors for the first few weeks. Won't have much time on our own I expect."

"That's okay, just if you get the opportunity or even if you notice anything, any cases that could be linked to this person. I think they may be from a Pureblood family, if that helps."

Ron nodded, digesting this, and then smiled at Harry as he shook his head with affectionate incredulousness. "You still trying to save the world one person at a time Harry?"

Harry smiled a little. "Perhaps."

"Who'd have thought that one day we would be working together to protect Draco Malfoy?" Ron chuckled.

Harry grinned. "And that he and I would be flatmates - _willingly_."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, a lot has changed since Hogwarts."

"Definitely for the better," Harry added with certainty.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I think so too, just wish it hadn't taken so long for us to stop seeing all Slytherins as evil."

"Now if the general public could only get that through their thick heads…" Harry muttered darkly.

Ron sighed, sounding world weary already. "Yeah, we'll get there. One day."

Harry suddenly realised that his best friend was no longer the ginger-haired boy with the smudge of dirt on his nose who had befriended him on the train all those years ago. He wasn't the teenager who stood beside him in battle, nor was he just 'Harry Potter's best friend' any longer; he was a man in his own right, with his own life now. In summary, he'd grown up while Harry hadn't been looking, while Harry hadn't been around.

Harry unexpectedly smiled at his friend. "You're different," he surmised.

"Yeah?" Ron smiled self-consciously.

"Definitely a more mature version of your old self," Harry teased lightly. "Auror Weasley."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "I can hardly believe it myself," he said, looking slightly embarrassed but also proud.

Harry suddenly felt a slight pull at his heart. He was happy for his friend, he truly was, but he also felt as though he was being left behind. He knew it would only be fleeting; this feeling of everyone moving on with their lives and beginning new adventures while he seemed to be stuck in one place. While one year and eight months wouldn't sound fleeting to some, he knew it would pass by in a heartbeat if the past few years were anything to go by.

He blinked and forced himself out of his murky thoughts. "Let's go eat, shall we?" he said brightly.

Ron smiled and slung an arm about Harry's shoulders as they made their way back inside to join the party.  
  


**.       .       .       .**  
  


Harry shut the door to the flat and leaned back against the solid wood for a moment, eyes closed. His exhaustion was like a blanket hanging heavily over his entire body. The remainder of the party had been an exercise in faux happiness and he was glad that it was over. It had been so tiring pretending to be happy when the truth was that he was feeling anything but. His conversations with both Ron and Luna had proved emotionally draining and a gloomy despair had stubbornly settled into the pit of his stomach for the remainder of the evening. The worst part had been that he was afraid that people would think him jealous of his friend's success if he appeared too quiet, so he had gone overboard in feigning absolute joy.

"Harry? Is that you?"

Harry pushed away from the door with a sigh and walked into the kitchen to find Draco at the oven, stirring something in a pot.

"Are you cooking?" he asked in astonishment, coming to lean his hip against the counter next to him.

"Yes, and don't sound so surprised," Draco sniffed. "How was the party?" He turned to glance at Harry and then frowned. "You alright?"

Harry turned to look out across the kitchen, arms crossed protectively over his chest. "No, not really," he replied honestly; too tired to pretend any more that day.

Draco shifted his gaze back to copper-coloured pot as he returned to his stirring, expression pensive. "I wondered if it would be… challenging for you," he said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Harry turned to look at him in surprise. He tried to ignore the flip-flop of his heart at Draco's words; which were probably meaningless and off-hand to the blond but oh so significant to a man in love.

Draco glanced up and saw his expression. "That _is_ what a friend would do, is it not?"

"Er yeah, I guess. Did you manage to get lots of work done while I was away?" Harry asked, trying for his usual teasing tone while averting his gaze.

"Don't change the subject Potter," Draco replied sternly, ignoring the question. "Sit."

"What?" Harry replied in confusion, wondering if Draco was ordering him to sit on the floor like a dog.

A smirk tugged at Draco's lips as he obviously knew what Harry was thinking. "At the _table_ Potter; like the civilized war hero you are meant to be."

Harry snorted and obediently made his way over to the kitchen table and sat down. He watched with an amused smile as Draco prepared each of them a bowl of steaming hot fettucine mixed with sautéed vegetables and pesto sauce. It smelt heavenly to Harry who hadn't had much of an appetite at the party.

A brief flash of what life would be like with Draco suddenly appeared before his eyes, causing his stomach to wrench painfully with the fruitlessness of it all. This scene; the two of them teasing and smirking while one cooked a wonderful meal and then sat down to talk over their day together…

Harry swallowed and kept his gaze firmly on the bowl that Draco set it down in front of him. It had been such a long, emotionally exhausting day that he knew he was affected more than usual, that he was close to an embarrassingly emotional meltdown if he thought about his mess of a life any longer that day.

Draco took the seat opposite and Harry could feel the weight of those questioning grey eyes. He very resolutely picked up his fork and began to dig into the meal without saying a word or making eye contact.

"In answer to your question," Draco suddenly said into the silence a minute later. "Yes, I did manage to get quite a bit of work done without you underfoot. Another whole order completed - _on time_ \- and the word of mouth from this one will be very beneficial for us. The owner has all the right friends with the right amount of galleons in the bank."

Harry was unable to stop the somewhat wobbly smile that suddenly stretched his lips. Merlin, he was so grateful for Draco and his seemingly inherent ability to understand exactly how Harry was feeling and what he needed. Here the Slytherin was, clearly offering Harry the option to talk about what was bothering him or not.

He forced himself to look up into Draco's face, his hand clenching tightly around his fork to help keep the hot prickle of tears behind his eyes where they belonged.

"I fucking hate my life today," he said succinctly.

Draco met his gaze then leaned back with his glass of red, waiting for Harry to continue.


	9. Will Play Themselves Out

"I can't believe you have me working on Christmas Eve," Harry grumbled as he flicked his wand and levitated a small box up to Draco, who was currently perched on top of a ladder next to the large wrought-iron gates of Fawley Manor.

Draco reached out for the box and carefully began to unpack it on his knees, mindful of the sharp wind whipping around them out on the cloudy moor. "Just be grateful that you're still alive to work on Christmas Eve," Draco quipped, carefully removing the small black orb from the box.

Harry snorted. "You should be grateful that I only have two Christmas Eves left - and I'm spending one of them out here with you in this bleak wasteland."

"Aw I'm touched Potter," Draco smirked as he withdrew his wand and began the incantation to charm the orb into perpetual invisibility with his unique Regenerating Disillusionment spell.

Harry grinned. While it was true that he did only have two Christmases left, there really was no other place he'd rather be than spending his time with Draco. The blond had quickly become his rock over the last few months; the one person he turned to for distraction or just to talk. He'd never been this open or honest with anyone before, not even Ron or Hermione. Somehow Draco Malfoy had become the one person who he'd allowed to get closer to him than anyone else in his lifetime.

"Now the Patronus Alarm."

Harry blinked and quickly sent a small gemstone soaring out of the large trunk at his feet, carefully directing it up into the air towards Draco's outstretched hand. Draco delicately placed the gemstone on his lap before turning to attach the orb to the top of the stone pillar to the right side of the gates. Once the orb was in place, hidden away on the underside of a stone statue that looked like a Grim, Draco then levitated the gemstone up to the opposite side of the gates and secured it in place with an extremely strong sticking charm.

Harry watched in rapt attention as Draco began the spell to activate the Patronus Alarm; another one of his ingenious inventions. The alarm was activated by any unauthorized opening of the entrance gates and would immediately send a Patronus-like figure off to the house - or large manor home in this case - to alert the occupants. Since the drive was so vast, whoever was inside the home would have ample time to Disapparate or arm themselves, and with the camera orb in place, they could also view who or what was coming.

Draco completed the spell then climbed back down the ladder to join Harry on the slightly squelchy ground.

"Looks good," Harry commented, looking up at the gates. All the equipment they'd installed was invisible to the naked eye, as well as being mostly undetectable by magic. You'd have to know what you were looking for to really find anything.

Draco followed Harry's gaze and Harry could see the frown of concentration on his face as he checked and re-checked his work. Harry knew he was a perfectionist when it came to his profession and, while it could be frustrating at times, he also admired the blond his work ethic and the pride he took in everything he did. It didn't seem to matter if the client was a hugely wealthy corporation or a small family home, he treated them all with the same respect and dedication.

Harry closed the trunk at their feet and glanced back up at the gates. "Who are the Fawleys?" he asked as he straightened up and slipped his wand back into the waistband of his jeans.

Draco brushed some wayward hair back from his forehead as he looked up at the name scrawled across the wrought-iron bars. "They're an old Pureblood family. Hector Fawley was the Minister for Magic back in the twenties I believe."

An alarm bell went off in the back of Harry's mind. "Really?" he said, hand twitching back towards his wand. "I've never heard of them. What happened to the family during the war?"

Draco shrunk the empty supply trunk with his wand and slipped it into the pocket of his black robes. "I think they stayed fairly quiet, they were not what you would call avid Dark Lord supporters."

"Are you sure they're trustworthy?"

Draco finally looked at him, a crease appearing between his blond brows. "Do you really think that I would do business with a family that I couldn't trust?"

"No, not at all," Harry said hurriedly. "That's not what I was getting at. I was just wondering if perhaps the Fawleys' might contain a certain _Concerned Citizen_ we all know and love."

Draco's expression cleared and he suddenly smiled. "Are you still working on that?" he asked with obvious amusement.

"Yup," Harry replied, grinning. "I've narrowed it down to a Pureblood family that was _not_ on Voldemort's side during the war."

Draco snorted. "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"I'm glad you asked," Harry said smugly. "That black tourmaline stone is commonly found in very old Pureblood family homes - as you so obligingly informed me - _and_ this mystery person has _my_ best interests at heart. So I just have to narrow down the list of Pureblood families to the ones that hate you and like me - with the help of some secret sources that I may have on the inside," he added mysteriously.

Draco narrowed suspicious grey eyes. "What sources? Who are you involving in this Potter?"

Harry waved off his concerns with a grin. "I'm afraid that's top- secret, I can't reveal my spies to you Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes then turned back to the gates to look everything over one last time. Once he was satisfied, he turned to Harry. "Ready to test it?"

Harry nodded with an eager smile and withdrew his wand once more as he stepped forward. He was to open the gates with his magic, which was not keyed into the wards, and thus trigger the Patronus Alarm to confirm that it was functioning properly. Draco had disabled the strong locking charm on the gates so that they could perform this final check of the equipment before finishing for the day.

With a flick of his wrist, Harry had the tall gates swinging outwards on metal hinges that squealed noisily beneath the howling moorland winds.

The two wizards turned towards the stone pillar on the left side of the gates to watch as a large, smoky-white dog leapt from where the black gemstone had been secured and rapidly took off up the long drive towards the manor. The manor was currently empty so the dog Patronus would simply dissipate once it discovered that the family was not at home.

Harry turned to Draco with a wide smile stretching his face. "Success?"

"Yes, I would say so," Draco replied, looking pleased.

Harry waited while Draco reset the charm on the gemstone and activated the camera before they turned and began to walk back towards the Apparation Point further up the road.

Harry wrapped his long cloak more tightly around his body in an attempt to keep out the icy wind. "So does each family choose what Patronus form they want to use for the alarm?" he asked with interest, remembering that the Fawleys' had stone statues of dogs atop their gate pillars.

Draco nodded. "Yes, it's always an animal or creature, and is usually the same form as a member of the family's Patronus."

"Do you have to come back here to tailor it to the family?" Harry asked, once again remembering that this Fawley family could very well be on his short-list of suspects.

"Yes, I believe they're on holiday in France over Christmas and will return sometime late January. They'll owl me before they get back and I'll meet them here to complete the process."

Harry frowned. "Do you need my help for that?" he asked, hoping the answer was yes so that he could keep an eye on things.

"No, it doesn't take long. Plus, I think they might wonder why Harry Potter was there to observe," he replied wryly, glancing at Harry with a smirk.

Harry didn't return the smile. "But… I don't think you should go alone," he said, knowing that he sounded quite mother-hen like but not knowing how else to phrase it.

Draco chuckled. "Are you still on about that?"

Harry shot him a pointed look. "You should be taking this seriously."

Draco just laughed more. "Potter, you're so…"

"What?" Harry snapped tetchily, disliking the feeling that perhaps Draco still thought him as juvenile as he did back at Hogwarts.

They stopped at the Apparation Point and turned to face each other; Harry still wearing a disgruntled expression on his face.

"Exhausting."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? How am I exhausting?"

Draco smirked. "Because you spend so much time worrying about other people that it makes me exhausted just listening to you. I don't know how Ron and Hermione put up with it for so many years, I don't know how _you_ put up with yourself."

Harry glared as he grabbed onto Draco's wrist none-too-gently. "Come on, ferret," he muttered as he Apparated the two of them away from the darkening moor and straight to Knockturn Alley.

The Alley was strangely quiet. It was six o'clock on Christmas Eve and most people were tucked away in their nice warm homes, surrounded by friends and family. Harry was spending Christmas Day at the Burrow with the Weasley's and Draco would be going to his mother's, but neither of them had made plans for Christmas Eve other than finishing the Fawley job. Harry had bought a variety of pre-made snacks for them so that the evening felt somewhat festive even though it was just going to be the two of them.

"Fancy a butterbeer?" Draco asked as they walked into the flat and hung up their cloaks.

"Butterbeer?" Harry repeated with a raised brow, his earlier irritation forgotten in light of Draco's unusual suggestion. The Slytherin never drank butterbeer as far as Harry knew, and he had definitely become a bit of a Draco Malfoy expert in the past year; unintentionally cataloguing his flatmate's favourite food, drinks, books - and anything else the man mentioned more than once.

Draco merely smiled and led the way into the kitchen.

Harry set about preparing their food for the evening as Draco handled the drinks. Harry smiled as he worked; beginning to look forward to the sumptuous meal he knew would be waiting for him at the Weasley's tomorrow night when he joined them all for Christmas dinner. He hoped the evening wouldn't be over too soon as he only had one more Weasley Christmas after this one.

Once everything was ready, Harry levitated the platter full of rich tempting food and sugary treats into the lounge room while Draco carried two bottles of butterbeer. Draco flicked the fire on with a wave of his wand before he lowered himself to the floor, sitting with his back against the sofa and long legs stretched out in front of him.

Harry lay on his side, propping his cheek in one hand as he took a sip of his deliciously creamy butterbeer. He distractedly played with the peeling label on his drink for a moment before glancing up at Draco.

"I was thinking that I'm ready to tell the others," he said quietly.

Draco slowly lowered his bottle back down to rest on his thigh as he gazed back at him. "Really? When?"

Harry sighed. "Not tomorrow, obviously, but perhaps… next week? I can't put it off any longer, as much as I don't want to do it, it's getting to the point where I think I have to."

Draco nodded, watching him carefully. "Have you thought about how you're going to do it? All in a group or one at a time?"

"I think one at a time, except for Ron and Hermione, I'll talk to them together." Harry closed his eyes against the image that popped into his head of how that scene was going to play out. Just thinking about it was making him feel ill.

"What about the press?"

"I'm not releasing any sort of statement," Harry immediately replied, opening his eyes. He'd thought about that already and had come to a definitive decision. "I want it to be kept a secret from everyone except those closest to me. Once I'm dead I don't fucking care what happens, but until then… no one else is to know."

Draco nodded and, for the first time, Harry thought the blond seemed at a loss of what to say or how to act. "Do you… want someone with you?" he finally spoke, sounding uncharacteristically tentative.

Harry looked up at him, his heart suddenly thudding madly in his chest. "Are you offering?"

"Sure Potter," Draco replied; his words were offhand but his tone was warm and earnest. "If you don't want to be alone."

Harry swallowed and looked down at his bottle. Shit, if anything was going to make him cry during this conversation, the man that he was in love with offering to hold his hand while he told his closest friends that he was going to die was it. He took a steadying breath and released it before attempting to speak again.

"Thank you," he replied, proud that his voice didn't wobble. "I think I might take you up on that."

Draco met his gaze with a soft look of understanding before he looked away to take another sip of his drink.

Harry reached for a cracker topped with cheese and chutney as a distraction. His heart and mind - and his whole sodding body - yearned to just shuffle over to Draco and have the man wrap his arms around him in a tight, comforting embrace. He wanted it so much that it was causing his hand to shake and his heart to ache with the force of it.

"Wait here one second."

Harry blinked and looked up as Draco set his drink aside and got to his feet. He watched as he left the room for a few minutes before returning with something in his hands.

Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position as Draco handed him what looked like a beautifully wrapped Christmas gift. "You…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head in astonishment as he gazed down at the soft squashy package in his hands.

"Just open it Potter," Draco commanded with a smirk as he settled back down on the floor. "It's nothing special."

Harry kept his thoughts to himself about how _anything_ Draco bought him was special. He ripped into the crinkly green and red wrapping and promptly burst out laughing. Nestled inside the wrapping paper was a soft, dark green jumper with 'I Love Slytherins' stamped across the front in cursive writing. The 'i' was even dotted with a tiny silver heart.

"This is brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, grinning as he held it up against himself.

Draco laughed in response. "The stipulation is that you have to wear it to our next pub night Potter."

"I look forward to it," Harry agreed with a grin. He couldn't wait to see everyone's reaction when they saw him wearing it. "I got you something too," he added as he set the jumper back down on the discarded wrapping and scrambled to his feet.

Harry jogged down the hall to his room and opened his wardrobe doors. He'd kept a box of things he'd collected during his time at Hogwarts; things that had meant something to him, knowing that one day he'd be splitting the mementos up amongst his friends. He 'd long ago set something aside for Draco and thought now was as good a time as any to give it to the Slytherin. He just hoped he liked it.

Harry removed a plain black notebook from out of the box and closed the wardrobe doors. He returned to the lounge room, the dancing flames of the fire warming the room and casting everything in a flickering orange glow.

Harry dropped back down onto the floor next to the platter of food and handed the notebook over to Draco. "Sorry it's not wrapped," he said with an apologetic smile.

Draco glanced down at the blank cover and then opened the book to the first page. His eyes widened and he looked up at Harry, lips parting in silent disbelief.

Harry smiled. "Just thought you might appreciate having that in your possession."

Draco swallowed and looked back down at the book. "How… how did you get this?"

"I took it from Snape's quarters after he passed away," Harry said, his own gaze dropping to the small notebook in Draco's hands. "He talks about you in there, you and your mum mostly. I also thought you might appreciate all the potions recipes that he came up with himself. I just wanted it because he wrote about my mother so much," Harry trailed off with an embarrassed shrug.

The notebook was years' worth of Severus Snape's thoughts, ideas and even his most closely guarded feelings on everything from the war to being a Death Eater infiltrator. It was almost as though the man was preparing to leave behind some sort of written record to prove that he wasn't just another one of Voldemort's soldiers. Harry had been so shocked when he'd found out the truth about Snape from the Pensieve that he'd snuck off to the man's private quarters just to sit and attempt to comprehend it all without anyone else around. After an hour, Harry had begun to look around his living space and it hadn't taken long to find the lone journal amongst his things. It wasn't hidden, another fact that led Harry to believe that Snape had wanted it to be found one day.

"Thank you Harry," Draco said quietly, interrupting Harry's reverie.

Harry smiled self-consciously. "I'm just happy that it can go to someone else who really knew and appreciated him. I was a bit late to the game on that one, but… I know he always looked out for you."

Draco nodded, gaze dropping back to the neat, hand-written pages in his hands.

Harry swallowed when he saw that Draco's grey eyes were slightly shiny and he scrambled for something to say to make the moment less awkward.

Surprisingly Draco spoke first.

"This means a lot to me," he said, still quietly incredulous. "He was a large influence in my life and… and I don't really have anything to remember him by other than a couple of photographs from when I was a child." He looked up then and Harry could see that he had managed to blink back the threatening tears. "He was the one who convinced me that not all of my choices had been made already, that I could choose a different path to that of my father or my housemates. He never tried to influence me, he just told me the truth - was the _only_ person to tell me the fucking truth - and then stepped back to let me decide for myself." Draco paused and smiled a little. "It sounds so simple, but… to feel like a pawn with no choices and then to suddenly realise that you can actually break free of that mould and go another way if you just push past the fear was… liberating. Indescribable really, what he did for me."

Harry released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin on top as he looked at Draco. "It's amazing that you did break free," he said with wonder. "I try to liken it to someone telling me over and over that Dumbledore was evil and that I should be fighting for Voldemort - because that's basically what it was for you, wasn't it? Brought up with people telling you one thing when in fact it was the complete opposite and then trying to change your whole mindset. That would have been incredibly hard, especially with your parents so high up in his inner circle…"

Draco nodded and absently clutched the notebook to his chest. "Truthfully most of the time I just wanted to be with whoever was going to win in the end; self-preservation was high on my list of priorities, unlike you," he added with a hint of his old smirk. "I won't lie though; it was exceptionally difficult to change sides. The scariest day of my life was the day I came to tell you that some of us were defecting. I still can't believe that you accepted us at face value. I think the fact that you came to trust us so quickly was one of the factors that convinced me that I'd made the right decision. If the Dark Lord doubted anyone, he would simply kill them off and eliminate the risk, however small that risk may have been."

"And that's why you never work for the bad guys," Harry remarked darkly, feeling a flare of outrage for all the people who hadn't been able to escape like Draco and the other Slytherins. Fear would have kept so many families prisoner to Voldemort's side. "Wasn't the scariest day of your life the final battle?" he asked, unclasping his knees and reaching for another cracker.

Draco smiled and seemed to relax again as he set the notebook on his thighs and plucked one of the warm, sun-dried tomato pastries from the plate. "No, that was the third scariest day. I'd already made my decision so I actually felt fairly calm, knowing that I just had to follow through with my choice and hope that you came out on top in the end."

"Aw, you wanted me to live Malfoy?" Harry teased.

Draco smiled but it slowly faded as Harry's words sunk in.

Harry cleared his throat and shifted, not wanting to talk about himself. He liked it when Draco was relaxed and talked about his past, he so rarely opened up. "What was your second scariest day then? Now that I've heard your first and third," Harry asked blithely.

Draco's playful smile instantly returned. "The day you fucking sliced me nearly to death in the toilets Potter."

Harry's eyes widened in horror for a moment before he burst out laughing. "Sorry…" he choked, holding one hand to his stomach. "But I'd actually sort of forgotten about that." Harry tried to get himself under control, even though Draco obviously didn't hold a grudge judging by his entertained expression. "I hope you didn't scar," he offered apologetically.

"You already know that I didn't Potter," Draco replied, arching a single brow, eyes gleaming teasingly. "Thankfully Severus was quite proficient at healing charms."

Oh right. The thought of Draco's flawlessly pale torso put an immediate end to Harry's mirth. Harry reached for his butterbeer and quickly finished it off to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.

"Another?" Draco asked amiably.

"Erm…" Harry's hand clenched around the empty bottle. Now that his thoughts had travelled in that particular direction, he was finding it difficult to think of anything else. He really wanted to kiss Draco, but not their customary frenzied kiss of arousal, he wanted one born of affection and tenderness. "I think I might turn in actually, I'm a bit tired."

Disappointment flickered across Draco's face. "Oh? I suppose it has been a long day..."

Harry silently cursed himself; how could he leave when Draco was in the mood to chat? Especially when Draco had done nothing but listen to Harry whinge and complain for months and months. Merlin he was being selfish.

Harry slowly lay back down on his side. "Maybe one more," he said with a grin.

Draco smiled and went to fetch two more bottles from the kitchen.

**.         .            .          .**

Harry couldn't help but grin as Blaise burst into laughter, startling his girlfriend and causing her to upset her drink onto the sleeve of her glittery silver dress.

"I always knew you secretly wanted to be one of us Potter," Blaise said, slapping Harry on the back of his green jumper which proclaimed to the world that he loved Slytherins.

"I can't believe you're wearing that on New Year's Eve," Draco murmured in amusement at Harry's side, shaking his head.

Harry just smiled and shrugged. He never really was one for dressing up so he felt perfectly fine in his casual attire amongst all the glitterati. Draco, on the other hand, was standing there looking mouth-wateringly gorgeous with his shining blond hair and Muggle suit, a shade of blue so dark that it was nearly black. Harry's heart had definitely stuttered for a second when he first caught sight of him and he had instantly known how he wanted _his_ night to end.

Ron and Hermione pushed their way into the crowded pub then and Harry turned towards them, awaiting their reaction.

Ron's eyes widened comically as he took in Harry's jumper. "What. The Fuck. Is.That?"

Draco and Blaise laughed helplessly while Harry noticed Hermione frowning at the message then looking up at his face questioningly. Harry suddenly realised what it would look like to her after the conversation they'd had ages ago; she would assume that Harry actually _had_ started dating Draco and that this was his way of telling everyone.

"I lost a bet a while back when Draco got to the Snitch first," Harry quickly interjected with a smile, "and he thought this was a fitting punishment for me."

Everyone laughed but Hermione still looked somewhat unsure.

They had decided to celebrate New Year's Eve at one of their favourite Muggle pubs in London, mostly to avoid the wizarding press for Harry's benefit. It seemed that lately, the press was determined to catch a photo of Harry Potter being anything but their perfect Chosen One; they followed him to every wizarding pub they could, hoping to catch him drunkenly stumbling around in the gutter or indulging in a messy snog with some random stranger. The only good thing about the whole situation was that Harry knew they were wasting their time; he never allowed himself to get so bladdered that he would do either of those things anymore, he'd gotten that out of his system during his time travelling abroad.

"Hey you lot!" Neville called out to them, hand cupped around his mouth. "I've got a table in the corner!"

They all trailed after Neville to the far corner of the noisy room where Luna and her boyfriend were currently sitting at a large table with what looked like vodka cranberries in hand. She looked up with a smile and a wave as they all approached.

"Why Harry, what a lovely jumper," she commented with a vague smile, "shows real house unity."

"Thanks Luna," Harry replied as straight-faced as he could while the others snickered as they took their seats around the dark wooden table littered with red cardboard beer mats.

It wasn't long before Blaise returned with a tray full of drinks and passed them round; the group had been having pub nights for so long now that everyone knew everyone else's favourite drink without having to ask, even Harry's favourite pint had been added to the list since his return. The fact always caused him to smile and made him feel like he was a part of something; like he actually belonged with this motley crew of crazy human beings.

"You all remember Peter?" Luna said to the group once they'd settled.

Harry smiled at the man as everyone greeted him with a nod and a friendly hello. Peter was about eight years older than Luna, and although they'd only been seeing each other for about a month, he already looked completely enamoured with her. He had sandy-brown hair, glasses, and was the Assistant Manager at Flourish and Blotts. He was very polite and laughed at everything Luna said. Harry had liked him immediately.

"Alright," Neville said loudly, clearing his throat importantly and commanding everyone's attention as he withdrew what looked like a stack of rainbow-coloured Post-it notes. "New Year's resolution time please."

They all reached for one of the blank pieces of paper with a collective groan, Neville ensuring that everyone received a different colour.

Neville's tradition of collecting New Year's resolutions had been going on since the end of the war. He began requesting that all of his closest friends write down their pledges for the New Year as a way to remind themselves that they survived, and to strive to live a better life - because they should be grateful that they _had_ one to live. It was his way of honouring the fallen.

Harry chewed on the end of the tiny pencil that Neville passed his way as he stared down at the bright blue stationery with a thoughtful frown. This was the second time he'd had to go through this exercise since his return and he again struggled with what to write. Last year he'd written that he wanted to lose half a stone, which hadn't really been true, he'd just written the first thing that had popped into his head at the time. He didn't want to mock Neville's tradition but he also didn't really want to participate in something that was meant to celebrate your enduring life when he didn't actually have one. He knew he could - and _should_ \- be grateful for even just these five years, but it was hard when he was surrounded by people that still had their whole lives ahead of them.

And then, like a light switching on, Harry looked at it from a different point of view: what if he _wasn't_ dying? What would his resolution be?

He knew what it would be straightaway: to bite the bullet and tell Draco that he was in love with him.

Harry chewed his lip as he thought about how to phrase his resolution so that it wasn't about someone in particular but more about love or relationships in general, then it would be _somewhat_ genuine.

"Time's up," Neville announced happily as Harry quickly jotted something down. "As this is Peter's first New Year's with us, he has the honour of going first."

Peter blushed. "I didn't' realise we would have to read these aloud," he said self-consciously, glancing down at his pink notepaper.

"You don't have to if you don't want to-" Neville began kindly.

"Yes he bloody-well does!" Blaise cut in indignantly. " _We've_ all had to put up with this for years!"

They all laughed, including Peter.

"Fair enough," Peter conceded with a chuckle, looking slightly more comfortable. He lifted his paper and read aloud, "to treasure every moment with my new girlfriend and make sure she knows how special she is."

"Very nice," Neville surmised as he held out his hand for Peter's piece of paper while Luna gave him an appreciative peck on the cheek.

"Someone's getting laid tonight," Blaise murmured aside to his girlfriend who was sitting next to Harry, causing both of them to snort with laughter.

"Next," Neville grinned, turning to Luna.

Luna smiled and held her piece of yellow paper aloft. "Mine is similar to Peter's," she said before reading. "To cherish my friends even more because they all mean so much to me and I want them to know it."

Harry swallowed as Luna met his gaze for a split second before turning to Neville with a smile and handing over her resolution.

"Malfoy, you're next," Neville said, tucking Luna's piece of paper into a small folder on the table in front of him.

With a heavy sigh, Draco reluctantly read from his cheerful purple notepaper. "To work less."

Harry laughed while some of the others raised their glass to Draco, impressed. They all knew how much of a workaholic the man was, and for him to even _attempt_ to spend less time in his shop was astounding.

"Harry," Neville called out next.

Harry suddenly knew he couldn't bring himself to say what it was he'd written down; it was too personal and he suddenly wondered what the hell he'd been thinking in writing it. He furtively covered his paper with one hand as he said aloud, "to lose half a stone."

They all laughed as Neville glared at him. "That was yours last year!" he said accusingly.

Harry just shrugged and folded his paper in half. "I didn't achieve it last year."

Neville reached out for his resolution and Harry handed it over, hoping Neville wouldn't look at it. He breathed a sigh of relief when Neville automatically slipped it in with the others while asking Blaise's girlfriend, Laura, to go next.

"To get married," she said succinctly.

Everyone immediately turned to Blaise, who had significantly paled and was staring at his girlfriend with panic written all over his face.

Laura glanced at him and couldn't help but giggle at his expression. "Just kidding sweetie," she said, holding up her piece of pale grey paper. "It actually says: do more baking."

Everyone laughed while Blaise visibly sagged with relief. "Oh, thank Merlin," he gasped.

"But nice to know where you stand," she added, still giggling in amusement.

"Blaise?" Neville said, still grinning, as he filed Laura's paper away.

Blaise seemed to collect himself and held up his red Post-it with a smirk. "To survive my first year as an Auror."

"Here here!" Ron chorused, holding up his pint and tipping his head to Blaise.

"Hermione?" Neville said, turning to her with a smile.

Just then, Pansy came blustering up to the table, out of breath and halfway out of a beautiful black Muggle coat. "Sorry I'm late, what have I missed?"

"We're just doing resolutions," Neville replied cheerfully, handing her a piece of paper as she pulled up the last remaining chair.

"Bugger, I was hoping I'd missed that part of the evening," Pansy muttered.

Neville frowned at her and she quickly patted his arm with an artificially sweet smile before picking up a pencil.

"Hermione?" Neville announced next, turning away from Pansy.

Hermione looked down at her green notepaper and read, "to be less selfish and help people in need."

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes as Hermione briefly glanced his way while handing her resolution to Neville. So both Luna _and_ Hermione had written resolutions about him. He briefly wondered what everyone's resolution would've been if they'd already known the truth about him. The thought makes him squirm; his impending death bringing everyone down and subjecting him to an evening of pity and gloomy melancholy.

 _Or perhaps no one would think of it at all as the world doesn't actually revolve around you_ , he reminded himself deprecatingly.

It was Ron's turn next. "To not fuck up at being an Auror."

Harry laughed and raised his pint towards Ron as they shared a grin of amusement.

Neville collected Ron's paper and slipped it into the folder before reading his own resolution. "To spend more time with Gran, as she's getting on in years and I don't think I appreciated her enough while I was growing up."

That earned a few smiles around the table.

"Okay," Pansy said, setting down her pencil and raising her piece of turquoise paper in the air with great aplomb. "Mine is: to get Draco laid."

Harry choked on his drink while everyone else laughed raucously. Harry glanced to his left to catch Draco's reaction and couldn't help but chuckle when he saw the blond coolly narrow his eyes at her with disdain. It was an expression that Harry was very familiar with - and couldn't help but find utterly alluring.

"Thank you Ms. Parkinson," Neville said with a roll of his eyes as he took her paper and placed it in the folder before subtly shrinking the whole thing and tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"That's _Mrs. Selwyn_ now Longbottom," she replied haughtily before turning to eye up how the busy the bar was.

Draco smoothly pushed back his chair and stood. "I'll fetch the next round," he announced.

Harry couldn't help but watch him walk away for a moment, admiring the view of the tall blond in his elegant suit, before Ron snagged his attention.

"Hey Harry, any luck yet on the stalker yet?" he asked loudly, trying to be heard above the loud chatter of the busy pub.

Harry shook his head. "No not yet, "he replied, knowing his disappointment showed on his face. "I've narrowed it down to a few possibilities but haven't got any further than that, and I don't think I will."

"Have they left any more notes?" Hermione asked with interest.

"No, not for a while. We've set up a few new devices at the entrance of the shop though, so hopefully they try something soon."

"Uh oh Pansy," Laura suddenly exclaimed from beside Harry, sporting a tiny grin, "looks like your resolution was a wasted effort."

Everyone turned to follow her gaze and saw a dark-haired man standing next to Draco at the bar, chatting him up with a dimpled smile on his face.

The hot flash of jealousy that lanced through Harry's body took him by surprise. He watched as Draco appeared to be eating up the attention; smirking and nodding at the cute stranger. Harry took a long draught of his beer, eyes pinned to the two men across the crowded room over the rim of his glass.

 _What did you think was going to happen tonight?_ Harry berated himself. _Draco is fucking gorgeous and you can't get upset, he's not your boyfriend._

Harry suddenly realised that someone was speaking to him and he quickly turned towards Luna's boyfriend, Peter, who was in the midst of asking him a question.

"S-sorry?" he said, trying to force himself to focus. "I didn't catch that." He held a hand up to his ear as though Peter's voice had been drowned out by the noise of the pub.

Peter leaned in and spoke up. "Your unofficial biography arrived in the shop yesterday, have you seen it?"

"What?" Harry frowned, his attention definitely diverted now. "What do you mean?"

Everyone else was now listening to the conversation as well.

"That was my idea!" Blaise exclaimed, slamming his empty pint glass down on the table emphatically.

"Who wrote it?" Harry demanded.

Peter frowned thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. "I can't remember the bloke's name, I'd never heard of him before."

"How can they write that without Harry's consent?" Neville asked the group at large, glancing at Harry's irate expression.

"It happens all the time," Hermione put in knowledgably. "There are authorised biographies done with the subject person's permission, and sometimes their input as well, and then there are _unauthorised_ biographies that are _not_ done with their permission."

Peter nodded. "Yes, she's right, it happens all the time. I believe they're legally allowed to do it if the book doesn't contain any defamation of the subject person? I could be wrong, but I believe that is one of the loop-holes."

Harry clenched his jaw then quickly finished off his pint in the ensuing silence, anger burning away inside of him. This night seemed to be going downhill fast.

Peter glanced at Luna uncertainly before turning back to Harry. "I can bring you a copy if you like. You know, to… see what's in it."

Harry placed his empty glass on the table and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly before replying. "No thanks, I don't need to see what sort of tripe he's written in there about me."

They all fell silent as Harry stared daggers at the table-top.

"Draco!" Pansy greeted in relief as the blond approached the table with a tray full of drinks. "Please tell me you got that fit bloke's phone number?"

Draco smirked as he set the tray down on the table then removed what looked like a business card covered in green leaves from his breast pocket.

Pansy squealed in delight and leaned in to read it while Harry felt as though he was about to explode with the dangerous mix of anger over the stupid book and jealousy over stupid Malfoy raging inside of him.

"Jude Wright," Pansy read aloud. "Graphic designer - what is that?"

"Didn't know you went in for Muggles Malfoy," Ron teased as he grabbed a fresh pint from the tray.

"Excuse me." Harry stood and slipped away from the table, knowing he couldn't sit there a moment longer listening to that particular conversation. He hoped they would just think he was still fuming over the book and not Draco's maybe future boyfriend.

He strode to the men's room, weaving in between all the happy people with a sour expression on his face. He really just wanted to go home at this point. Unfortunately his home also contained Draco and the possibility of this Jude prick staying the night if they hooked up later.

He pushed open the door and walked to the sink, immediately turning on the cold tap and splashing his face with water. The cool liquid was a relief against his hot skin and helped to soothe his anger a little.

"Tough night?"

Harry looked up to see a man with auburn hair standing at the sink next to him, gazing at him with a sympathetic expression as he washed his hands. Harry grimaced. "Yeah, you could say that."

The man smiled as he turned off the tap and reached for a towel. "New Years is such a load of shite, isn't it? I don't think I've ever had a good time on New Year's."

Harry smiled a little. "Completely overrated," he agreed.

The man tossed his towel into the used basket and turned towards Harry. "Can I buy you a pint? Might improve your evening."

Harry hesitated, not really in the mood to fuck up this night any more than it already was.

The man chuckled as he held up his hands. "No strings attached, I promise. This isn't some lame attempt at a pick-up. I'm not even gay, if that's what you're worried about."

Harry had to laugh and he quickly nodded in acquiescence. "Okay, I accept."

Harry followed him out the door and over to the bar, squeezing in between all the people gathered there. He was feeling marginally better, he knew when he got home and was alone with his thoughts his mood would take a turn for the worse, but for now he just needed to get through the rest of the evening without his turbulent emotions getting the better of him.

"What do you want?" the Muggle stranger shouted above the din.

"Whatever you're having is fine," Harry replied easily.

He turned away from Harry to order and Harry suddenly felt the intentional press of a body against him from behind. He frowned and was about to tell whoever it was to back the fuck off when familiar cologne suddenly hit his nostrils and he couldn't help but melt a little. He turned his head and looked up into smirking grey eyes.

"Something you want Malfoy?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," Draco replied suggestively, subtly pressing his hips into Harry.

Harry swallowed as arousal immediately flared within him, everything else that'd happened that night instantly drifted into the background as he centred in on the present moment; on Draco in his stunning suit looking at him with darkened grey eyes.

"Here you are, mate."

Harry blinked and followed Draco's gaze as it shifted to the auburn-haired Muggle standing next to them.

"Oh, thanks again," Harry said, shaking himself and offering the stranger a grateful smile.

"Looks like your night is looking up already," he replied, glancing fleetingly at Draco before flashing Harry one last smile and walking off, drink in hand.

Harry smiled then grasped the glass tumbler full of what looked like whiskey and turned back to Draco. He caught a strange frown marring the blond's face and he cocked his head to one side, appraising. "Something wrong?"

Draco's gaze shifted back to him as he smiled. "Just wondering what the others would think if we left now," he replied.

Harry felt a spark of anticipation at his words. "Why don't we find out?"

In that moment, Harry didn't care if his friends saw them or what they thought was going on, he didn't care that Draco wasn't invested in this the same way that Harry was or that he had kept the card from some other man in his jacket pocket. All he cared about was pretending, just for one night, that Draco was his and that it was New Year's Eve and they were leaving the party early because they couldn't wait to get their hands on each other.

Draco smirked in satisfaction as he gave Harry's forearm a squeeze then turned to lead the way out of the crowded pub.

Harry quickly threw back his drink and followed right behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidebar: The inspiration for Draco's Muggle suit came from a photograph I saw of Ryan Gosling wearing a dark blue suit during awards season and I thought it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. When I was writing this I immediately pictured Draco in something similar. Just in case anyone is wondering what his suit would look like in the flesh ;)


	10. Take This Sinking Boat and Point it Home

Harry and Draco stumbled through the door to the flat; lips meeting in a fierce kiss that neither man seemed inclined to break, hands sliding over backs and fisting into fabric, pulling close. Draco waved his arm in the air behind him a few times before finally catching the edge of the door and slamming it shut before walking Harry backwards towards the lounge room.

"Bedroom… too… far?" Harry managed to pant, smirking against Draco's lips as he readily allowed the blond to take the lead and guide them through the kitchen and all the way to the sofa next to the fireplace. Neither one of them bothered with any light, using the glow of the winter moon shining in through the windows to illuminate their surroundings.

Draco's predatory gaze gleamed silver in the pale light as he pulled back a fraction and smiled before pushing Harry down onto the surface of the soft, charcoal-coloured sofa.

Harry lay back, bringing Draco with him and emitting a quiet moan as the Slytherin settled his weight against him in all the right places. Draco lowered his head and they continued the heated kiss. Harry arched up into Draco's warm body, unable to stop the movement as pleasant tingles ran up and down his body, centring on his groin and giving off sparks of pleasure every time he pushed his hips up into the other man.

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from saying everything that he wanted to say in that moment; he wanted to tell Draco how stunning he was in his suit, how his touch sent thrills through Harry's body, how good he smelled, how wonderful his lips felt against his skin…

They rarely spoke during their short rendezvous' except to utter the odd curse word or to say ' _yes - there - don't stop_.' Nothing of consequence or words of emotion were ever spoken. Harry had once found this to be a blessing so that every time they came together in this way, he could overlook the fact that he was getting off with Malfoy, but now… now he would give anything to be able to say all the sentiments crowding his head.

Draco slowly kissed his way down Harry's throat and Harry tipped his head back to give him better access. Draco's hands slid underneath the hem of Harry's jumper and began to push the garment up to expose his smooth pale torso - then he paused.

Harry opened his eyes and glanced down questioningly.

Draco met his confused gaze with a wry smirk. "I think I'll leave that on."

Harry laughed. "Slytherin fetish?"

Draco chuckled lowly and shook his head as he pulled the green cashmere jumper back down and instead went to work on the button of Harry's trousers. "Gryffindor in Slytherin-wear more like," he murmured as though thinking aloud.

Harry grinned and lay his head back down on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes once more and becoming lost in the sensation of Draco's hands on his body; pushing Harry's clothing down his legs with tantalizing slowness and then off, leaving him naked save for the Slytherin jumper.

He gasped and threw his head back when a warm mouth closed around his hard prick and began to tongue up and down the shaft. His hands fisted around the sofa pillows on either side of him in an attempt to keep grounded and not thrust up into Draco's mouth as the slide of lips and tongue moved down his cock and then lower, swiping over his perineum and causing him to moan wantonly. Harry's breath was coming in pants and muted groans as he lay back and felt his body begin to spiral towards an embarrassingly early orgasm.

He quickly opened his eyes and sat up, not quite ready to finish yet. He smirked at Draco's quizzical expression when the blond glanced up at him, brow arched in silent question. Harry drew his legs beneath him and crawled down the sofa, gently pushing Draco down onto the cushions before unbelting the Slytherin's expensive, perfect-fit trousers and pushing them down his legs along with his pants.

Harry settled himself on his stomach between Draco's legs and licked a stripe up the blond's stiff erection. Draco bit off a moan of pleasure as he threw his head back and closed his eyes. Harry smirked around Draco's thick cock before going to work; striving to make the blond come undone in the most magnificent way possible.

The taste of him on his tongue and the sounds Draco was making were driving Harry crazy as he continued his assault. Harry shifted so that he was rubbing his own throbbing erection against the sofa cushion beneath him as he took Draco in as much as possible and swallowed around the hard shaft.

Draco emitted a particularly loud moan that shot straight to Harry's cock and he knew he wasn't far off. He sucked and stroked with renewed vigour, wanting Draco to come at the same time.

One more forceful swallow and Draco arched up with a silent cry, his cock pulsing in Harry's mouth as he came hard. Harry continued to thrust against the sofa as he swallowed Draco's seed and suddenly he was coming, gasping sharply at the intensity.

The two lay panting for a few moments as they recovered before Harry pushed himself back onto his knees with unsteady arms.

Draco sat up on his elbows, trousers around his calves and shirt unbuttoned as he lay sprawled across the sofa. Harry swallowed at the sight; he didn't think he'd ever seen anything so bloody sexy.

Draco glanced pointedly at the stained cushion between his legs where Harry had ejaculated messily.

Harry smiled sheepishly and reached out to the floor to grab his wand from his discarded jeans. He vanished the mess as Draco finally hauled himself to his feet with a sigh and began to put himself back together.

"Guess we should go back…" Harry said with reluctance, not making any attempt at moving from his comfortable position on the sofa. He was pleasantly sated and sleepy now; the thought of returning to the noisy pub was not a welcome one.

Draco smiled absently as he tucked his shirt back into his slightly rumpled trousers. "Yes we should," he said, "we haven't been gone that long. You don't want people to talk, do you?"

Harry rolled his eyes and forced himself to stand and snatch his jeans from off of the floor. "No," he muttered, causing Draco to smirk in amusement. The negative and cynical part of Harry suddenly wondered if Draco would still try to meet up with that bloke who gave him his phone number earlier. The thought instantly dampened his post-orgasm contentment.

With a final comb of fingers through hair and straightening of collars, they were both presentable enough to return to the New Year's Eve party, the only giveaway of their amorous activity was a slight flush to pale cheeks.  
  


The next morning Harry slept in late and missed out on having breakfast with Draco. He could already hear the blond shuffling about down in his office so he went about preparing breakfast on his own; whistling tunelessly while wearing his well-worn pyjama bottoms and the now infamous Slytherin jumper.

It had been a good night in the end. It appeared as though no one had noticed their absence, or at least didn't question it, and Harry had had a few more drinks and happily danced in uncoordinated obliviousness into the wee hours of the morning with his friends.

When Harry opened the bin to toss out some broken egg shells, he spied a familiar Muggle business card painted with green leaves amongst the rubbish.

Harry stared at it a moment before slowly smiling, unexpected relief flooding his veins. He turned away, allowing the lid to fall shut with a satisfying thud.

 

**.           .           .            .**

 

_Neville,_

_Want to hang out tomorrow? I thought maybe we could have lunch and catch up without the rest of the group around._

_Let me know._

_Harry_  


 

Harry knocked on the white door labelled 'Toxicology Centre' and waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot as Draco stood silent and steady by his side. After a moment the door swung open and Neville appeared; dressed in pale blue robes and smiling widely.

"Hey Harry. Malfoy," he greeted pleasantly as he stepped back and allowed them to pass through before letting the door swing shut behind them. "It's not often I get visitors in my lab."

Harry smiled as he looked around the large sterile room. "Hope you don't mind if Draco joins us for lunch, he was starving," he said offhandedly as he looked around at all the delicate instruments with interest.

"Not at all," Neville replied, waving a negligent hand as he walked over to the centre table. "Wanna see what I'm working on?"

Harry smiled; he could tell by how eager Neville was that the man didn't often get the chance to talk about his work. "Sure," Harry replied, still smiling.

Neville leaned his hands on the tall stainless steel table and looked down at the collection of glass phials and covered Petri dishes grouped together in a stand. "I'm at the in vitro stage of testing the effects of a new memory potion."

"In vitro?" Draco questioned as he walked over to stand at the table next to Harry.

"It's the stage of testing that's done on isolated cells or tissue," Neville explained, glancing up at them, "as opposed to a _whole_ animal. We've modelled our method off of the Muggle one since there's still no magical way to safely trial new potions."

"What are you testing for exactly?" Harry asked with interest, leaning his forearms on the table and squinting down into the small covered containers.

"At this point I'm trying to determine the effects of continuous exposure in small doses to see if the potion will be safe in multiple applications over time."

"What sort of memory potion is it?" Draco asked, glancing at a nearby stack of paperwork with interest.

"It's an attempt at reclaiming memories that have been permanently Obliviated."

Harry whistled as he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, impressed.

Neville smiled. "I didn't come up with the formula on my own," he said modestly. "It's quite tricky though; potions that deal with the brain and memory."

"You'd want to get it right," Draco nodded in solemn agreement as he and Harry stared at the innocuous phials with wonder.

Neville grinned at their expressions as he removed his work robe. "So, where did you want to get lunch?"

Harry glanced at Draco before replying, "I thought we could go to Hyde Park."

"Muggle London?" Neville replied in surprise while hanging his robe on the wall by the door.

Harry shrugged with studied indifference. "Yeah, it's a nice day and no one will bother us there."

"Okay, sounds good," Neville agreed congenially as Harry walked over and opened the door for them.

Draco followed behind Neville, giving Harry's arm an almost imperceptible squeeze on his way past, and Harry shot him a grateful, if somewhat wobbly, smile.

He took a steadying breath to help calm his suddenly jittery nerves and then joined the other two out in the bright white corridor.

The three men Apparated as close as they could to their destination and then walked the rest of the way; enjoying the sunshine peeking out from around the drifting clouds. The January day was cold but when the sun managed to break through, it beamed down and warmed their chilled skin.

They picked up take-away at a local café and then walked through the gates on the northern side of the vast park. They chatted about nothing of consequence as they walked to the Italian Water Gardens and then settled on one of the benches. There weren't too many people around, and the ones that were, remained deep in conversation on their mobiles and didn't pay any attention to the three men.

Harry sat in the middle and opened his paper bag on his lap. The aroma of his toasted sandwich wafted up to his nose but he was too nervous to feel hungry. He took comfort in the feel of Draco's warm thigh pressed firmly against his own.

"You have something important to talk to me about, don't you?" Neville asked, glancing sideways at Harry.

Harry smiled a little as he picked at his sandwich. "What gave it away?"

"You seem a bit… nervous, and then the sudden interest in having lunch without the others around," Neville said with a shrug, watching his friend. "I'm more observant than people tend to give me credit for."

Harry looked up, expression softening. "I've always known that, that's why I'm talking to you first."

"First?" Neville frowned.

"Yeah, it's something I have to… erm, discuss with everyone. Well, technically you're the second," Harry said, stalling, gaze flicking to Draco for a second.

"Luna," Draco reminded.

Harry exhaled noisily. "Okay technically the _third_ because Luna cheated and read my mind," he amended in exasperation before dropping his gaze to stare silently at his untouched sandwich again.

"Just tell me Harry," Neville finally said, beginning to sound anxious. "You're scaring me."

"I have one year and four months to live," Harry replied all in one breath.

Neville's eyes widened and his toasted sandwich fell from limp hands onto the ground between his feet.

Harry looked down at the food now all over the gravel. "Your lunch…" he said absently.

Neville swallowed, still staring at Harry. "W-what do you mean? How…"

Harry raised despondent green eyes back to Neville's face. "I was given five years to live from the Battle of Hogwarts, and my time is up in one year and four months. I died and was… _gifted_ with a little bit more time." Harry tried to smile, to draw on that sense of gratitude that he knew he should feel yet rarely did, but he couldn't quite manage it.

Neville blinked and then suddenly his eyes filled with tears and Harry quickly looked away. "Can't… can't someone do something? There has to be… there has to be _something_!" he said desperately.

Harry just shook his head, staring at the ground as he dug the toe of his trainer into the ground and twisted it, the gravel crunching noisily under his foot. He flinched when Neville suddenly threw his arms around him and held on tight. Harry's breath hitched and he felt something inside of him break a little as he raised his hands to grip the arm across his chest and closed his eyes against the burn of impending tears. He could feel the warmth of Neville's tears falling onto the chilled skin of his neck and held still, part of him desperately trying to keep his own tears at bay while the other half of him urged him to just let go for once in his fucking life.

Harry opened his eyes when the touch of a warm hand slid onto his right thigh and squeezed. He glanced at Draco and was surprised to see a myriad of intense emotions shining back at him from those grey eyes; reassurance and support - and something he couldn't quite identify. Harry's face softened and he was immediately able to get himself back under control; Draco's soothing presence lending him a strength that he desperately needed.

Merlin, how he loved that man.

Harry eventually released his hold on Neville's arm and his house-mate gradually pulled back, swiping at his cheeks as he looked at Harry with sad, devastated eyes. "I can't believe it…" was all he was able to voice as Harry gazed back at him.

"I still don't," Draco interjected quietly, watching Neville in understanding.

Neville shook his head a little. "It's just… you… you _can't_."

Harry felt an irrational bubble of laughter swell up at Neville's words and he let it overflow, welcoming the relief.

Neville gave a wobbly smile in return. "I just meant… you're _Harry Potter_. This isn't supposed to happen to you, you can't… _die_. You fought and _survived_ and then… now…" He cut off, shaking his head, and Harry could see the tears returning.

"It's alright," Harry quickly interrupted, marvelling at how strange it was to be comforting Neville when he wasn't the one that was dying. "I've gotten used to it by now. I can't do anything about it, and I was willing to die five years ago so… so it's…" He trailed off, not really sure how to end that sentence. "It is what it is." He looked up and smiled a little at Neville, desperate to wipe that look of devastation from his round face.

"Is there anything I can do?" Neville finally asked despondently.

Harry shook his head. "No, just… just don't mention it to the others yet. I'll let you know when it's safe to gossip behind my back."

That put a reluctant smile on Neville's face. "Are you telling everyone today?" he asked.

Harry nodded and forced himself to take a bite from his rapidly cooling sandwich.

Neville gave him a sympathetic look before leaning down to clean up his fallen lunch. Harry waited until he'd placed it all back into the paper bag before handing over half his sandwich to his friend.

Neville smiled gratefully and his gaze flicked down for a second before turning away to face front as he took a bite.

Harry's cheeks warmed as he suddenly realised that Neville had noticed Draco's hand still resting on his thigh. He kept his own gaze firmly on his food but didn't move his leg away from the warm touch.  


**.           .           .           .**  
  


_Pansy,_

_Are you free tomorrow? I thought you might like to join Blaise, Draco and I for afternoon tea._

_Let me know._

_Harry_

 

"Get to the point Potter," Pansy drawled as she dusted flaky pastry crumbs from her fingers. "You wouldn't be sharing tea with three of Slytherin's best without a hidden agenda."

Harry couldn't help but smile. They were sitting outside a quaint little café in the middle of Muggle London, seated around a small round table set out on the footpath under an increasingly cloudy sky. It was now three o'clock, two hours since he had said goodbye to Neville and he was determined to see the day through; informing his closest friends so that it was done once and for all - despite the ensuing mental toll.

Though he didn't feel as nervous about telling Blaise and Pansy as he had been with Neville, owing to the fact that he wasn't as close to them, he was still unsure as to what their reactions would be.

"Behave," Draco said warningly before taking a sip of his espresso.

Pansy raised a brow. "Oh this _is_ serious," she replied, and Harry wasn't at all certain if she was being flippant or not.

"Is this something to do with the stalker?" Blaise asked with a frown, gaze darting between Harry and Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Bloody stalker," he muttered under his breath.

"No." Harry cleared his throat as Blaise and Pansy looked at him expectantly. "This is… something to do with me, I guess. I just… wanted to let you know…" He trailed off, inwardly cringing at his wording as he ran an absent hand through his messy windblown hair.

"The suspense is killing me," Pansy deadpanned and Draco shot her another threatening glare.

Harry swallowed and, feeling suddenly panicked, turned to Draco; eyes wide and pleading.

Draco sighed and turned to his two house-mates. "Harry has just over a year to live."

Harry peeked up at their faces and would have laughed aloud had he not been feeling so tense: both Slytherins were gawping - rather unattractively - at him.

"Are you joking?" Blaise finally asked as he looked to Draco for some sort of response that made sense.

Draco shook his head and dropped his gaze to his coffee with a tiny frown, forcing Blaise and Pansy to turn to Harry.

Harry swallowed and forced himself to speak. "Yeah… when I, uh, died at the Battle of Hogwarts, instead of coming back free and clear, I was only given five more years, and my time is almost up so… I thought I'd better tell… everyone," he ended with a shrug, inwardly cringing because he knew he sounded like a complete tosser. He wished he'd just written it all in a letter instead of attempting to string together a coherent sentence on the spot.

Pansy leaned forwards. "And how do you know that's true?"

Harry exhaled, relieved that the hardest part was over. "I've seen quite a few Healers all over the world, and they've all confirmed the same thing: my magical core was damaged from the removal of the Horcrux and with a part of it missing I can only survive a further five years. There's no potion or spell that can fix it, a few wizards have tried and managed to end up dead, so I've never been eager to attempt it."

"Well fuck me…" Blaise uttered faintly, gobsmacked. "I can't believe you never said anything." He paused and seemed to be lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "Is this why you pulled out of Auror training?"

"That was the main reason, yeah."

"I'm… sorry Potter," Blaise said, looking uncharacteristically sombre.

Harry nodded and suddenly noticed that Pansy seemed to be glaring daggers at him from across the table.

She abruptly pushed back her chair with the screech of metal on pavement. "A word Potter?" she said curtly, motioning for him to follow as she got to her feet.

Harry frowned as he stood. He glanced at Draco who just shrugged, before following Pansy around the corner to a quiet little alleyway.

Pansy whirled on him the moment they were out of sight of the other two, eyes blazing. "I could slap you!" she hissed angrily.

Harry took a step back, eyes widening. "Whatever for?" he replied in bewilderment.

"For hurting my best friend you selfish little sod!"

"Who? Draco?"

Pansy pressed her lips into a thin line and breathed through flared nostrils. "Yes _Draco_ ," she said, keeping her voice low. "How dare you make him have feelings for you when you're fucking _dying!_ "

Harry blinked, feeling distinctly off-balance. "He doesn't have feelings for me, we're just friends. And he's known the truth since day one."

Pansy's anger seemed to waver slightly at his words. "He has?"

Harry nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, staring back warily.

"I'm sorry I was cross," she finally allowed stiffly, not making eye contact, "but Draco is one of my dearest friends and I can tell he cares for you a great deal, and he doesn't let just anyone get close to him." She lifted her gaze back to his face. "I saw you disappear together on New Year's, you know. We all did. And I know for a fact that he didn't call that handsome bloke from the pub that night."

Harry shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "It's nothing; he just… helps me blow off steam sometimes. That's all."

"And you think Draco's just giving you a pity fuck?" Pansy asked with a raised brow.

"Not really, I think he needs to blow off steam too. He'll date when he's ready," Harry replied evenly, trying to convince himself as much as Pansy. He didn't like the thought of Draco being with other men once he was gone, but thinking about him alone in the flat was worse.

Pansy stared at him a moment. "You have feelings for Draco, don't you?" she concluded.

Harry held her gaze but remained silent.

Pansy sighed and finally dropped her defensive posture. "Fine, keep your secrets, just please don't let him get hurt. I know a year must not seem like very long to you in your situation, but don't forget that it's a long time to someone like Draco who could be growing more and more attached to you in the meantime."

Harry nodded, he'd never thought about it like that before. He knew Draco cared for him but he honestly didn't think the blond harboured anything stronger than feelings of friendship towards him.

Pansy looked at him. "And I'm sorry that your life has turned out this way Potter."

Harry smiled, her sympathy meaning quite a lot to him considering their history. "Thanks."

Pansy nodded and turned to head back to the table, Harry following along behind and firmly pushing Pansy's words aside to examine another day. Today was already full to the brim with enough emotional strain.  


**.             .           .            .**  
  


_Ron and Hermione,_

_I was hoping to invite myself over for dinner tomorrow night. It's been a while since it was just the three of us._

_Let me know if that works for you two._

_Harry_  


Harry sat on the worn, flower-printed sofa in Ron and Hermione's comfortable lounge room, a hot cup of tea cupped between his hands and resting untouched atop his knees. He was alone this time; no Draco to help keep him composed and on-track. As much as he wanted the blond there to lean on, he knew he needed to do this one solo.

Hermione walked into the lounge with a plate of treats from one of the local bakeries and set it down before settling into the squashy armchair across from Harry. Ron was seated on the floor next to the low table; within easy reach of the food and his steaming cup of tea.

The trio had enjoyed a nice relaxed dinner together but Harry knew the time had come to say what it was he came there to say.

"This has been nice," he started, forcing a slight smile as he glanced between his two oldest and dearest friends.

Hermione smiled and nodded in agreement as she took a sip of her tea.

"Yeah, it _has_ been awhile since it was just the three of us," Ron added as he reached for a chocolate biscuit. "Being an Auror is time-consuming and bloody exhausting; the more senior blokes just dump all the crap onto the trainees." He paused a moment to chew before speaking again, crumbs falling from his lips. "You should really think about joining Harry."

Hermione snorted. "Ringing endorsement there Ron; you're really going to tempt him after that speech."

Ron shot her a look which she returned with a smile.

Harry wanted to laugh but he was beginning to feel slightly sick with nerves and he knew it was best to just get on with things. "Erm, so I sort of invited myself over for a reason tonight."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before turning to Harry expectantly.

Harry cleared his throat, hands clenching reflexively around his cup. "I have to tell you something, something that I've known for a while but didn't want to tell you until now. I still don't want to, but… you'd be even more furious if I waited any longer."

Hermione frowned and set her tea down on the table. "What's going on Harry?"

"Yeah, why would we be angry with you mate?" Ron asked apprehensively.

Harry swallowed. "I…" He stopped and shook his head as he attempted to organise his thoughts. "There was a reason I left for a few years after the final battle, I… I received some rather overwhelming news that day and I needed to leave." He swallowed again and dropped his gaze to the cup clutched between his hands. "When I spoke with Dumbledore after I'd been cursed in the forest, he told me that the destruction of the Horcrux inside of me would damage my magical core or 'soul' as he called it." Harry was distantly aware of Hermione's hands coming up to cover her mouth. He exhaled shakily and carried on. "So… if I chose to return then I would have a damaged core, which meant that I could only survive for another five years. I made the choice to come back and… it's nearly four years later…" He trailed off, gaze still on the cup of tea resting on his knees, the surface of which was rippling from the minute tremors in his hands. He quickly placed his cup down on the table, some of the liquid splashing over the edges and onto his fingers before he could draw back, still unable to make eye-contact.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Ron was the first to speak; his voice low and strained. "Harry… are you saying that… that you only have one year to _live_?"

Harry raised troubled green eyes to look at Ron; his first ever friend whom he had instantly bonded with and who's family had welcomed him with open arms. He was the closest thing to a brother he'd ever known and the desolation on his freckled face was almost more than he could bear.

Harry nodded, unable to voice a response.

Ron looked as though he were in shock; his face had paled dramatically, eyes wide with disbelief.

Hermione let out a sob that was muffled by her hands then stood and fairly threw herself onto Harry, wrapping her arms around him as she wept into his shoulder.

Harry's arms automatically came up to hold her tight, her frizzy hair tickling his nose as his chin came to rest on top of her head. He closed his stinging eyes and held on tight.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Ron asked faintly as he numbly watched the scene unfold before him.

Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Ron as he shook his head.

"Why did you wait so long to tell us?" Hermione sniffled, face still buried against Harry's neck.

Harry swallowed and tried to compose himself; he didn't want them - _or anyone_ \- to know just how much he was in despair on the inside. His whole life he'd put on a brave face when confronted with a difficult situation and he didn't know how else to be.

"I didn't want to be treated any differently," he replied stiltedly. "I just wanted things to go on as normal for as long as possible. I'm sorry if it hurt you two to keep you in the dark for so long - but I can't regret my decision."

Hermione pulled back and carefully shifted to sit on the table in front of Harry, hastily wiping her cheeks before wrapping her arms around herself as though suddenly cold. "Does anyone else know?" she asked.

Harry exhaled, feeling dreadfully shaky, and absently wondered just how much emotional stress his body could take in one day. Perhaps he _should_ have spread it out over the course of a few days.

"Draco knew I was hiding something on my first night back," he replied. "So he's known since then." He hoped they wouldn't be too upset that Malfoy had known long before them. "Luna found out by accidentally reading my mind once, but everyone else was informed today." He paused for a second, glancing between the two. "I knew I had to save you for last, I knew you would be the hardest…" he stopped as his voice broke over the words and Hermione instantly reached out to give his hand a squeeze.

"I don't understand," Ron frowned, looking lost. "Why can't it be fixed? How can there be no cure?"

His voice took on a slightly angry edge and Harry knew how he felt; it was the same useless anger that he'd felt four years ago.

"There just isn't," Harry replied dully. "I saw Healers from all over the world over the span of twelve months and they all had the same answer: there is no cure and everything that's ever been attempted has ended in either no change or death. I knew I couldn't chase a cure that doesn't exist for my last few years, so I tried to forget it and just… just live my life." He tried to smile a little, anything to wipe the stricken looks from both their faces. "Hey, don't forget I was going to die four years ago in the forest, now you get a proper goodbye."

He knew his attempt at levity had failed when Hermione's eyes once again filled with tears. " 'Mione-"

"This is so much worse!" she cried, tears spilling over. "For the next year, all I'll be able to think about is how this is your last Christmas or your last birthday or the last pub night…" she choked off and covered her face with trembling hands.

Her noisy blubbering finally seemed to spur Ron into action and he quickly moved to sit next to his girlfriend on the table and wrapped his arms around her.

Harry met Ron's gaze overtop of Hermione's hair and felt his gut wrench at the sheen of unshed tears in his best friend's eyes.

"Just pretend I'm overseas again," Harry suggested feebly, his own eyes prickling threateningly.

Hermione raised her head and held out a hand to him, eyes pleading, and Harry suddenly found himself kneeling on the floor in front of them, arms around each other; united in sorrow.

The three held tight to each other; as though they were losing Harry the next day and not sixteen months into the future. They remained that way for a very long time; two of the three silently wondering just how they were going to exist in a world where the integral piece to their Gryffindor Trio was missing.  


**.        .           .           .**  


Harry closed the door to the flat and leaned back against it; emotionally shattered. A hollow melancholy had settled over him that he knew would take a few days to lift, but at least the task was done. Today had been hard on him, even more so than he'd anticipated.

He pushed away from the door and wandered into the kitchen to see Draco leaning against the counter; all lean limbs and concerned grey eyes as he glanced up at Harry's entrance.

"I would ask how it went but your face says it all," Draco said quietly, watching him.

Harry's heart twisted as he stared back at him; he was on the edge of falling apart - he could feel it. He felt as though he was about to splinter into a million pieces right there in the middle of Draco's kitchen and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He didn't have the energy or the willpower to pretend he was okay for one more fucking minute…

Then suddenly there were strong arms around him, keeping him on his feet even as his knees threatened to give out.

Harry automatically slid his arms around Draco's waist, his eyes falling shut of their own accord. He was so weary and overcome with a wretched grief that he feared would never let up.

"Please…" he whispered with quiet desperation, his breath hitching. "Please…"

"What do you want Harry?" Draco asked softly, stroking one hand through his hair.

Harry swallowed the sob that got caught in his throat. "Make me feel something else…"

He gripped the hand that was suddenly placed in his as though it were a lifeline.

Harry held on as he was led out of the kitchen and down the hall to his darkened bedroom. His body trembled as Draco carefully removed his glasses and put them aside, a purposeful solemnity to his movements, then he slowly removed Harry's clothing until he was standing naked in the shadows cast by the open doorway.

Harry watched in silence, only dimly aware of Draco's actions as the tall blond carefully divested himself of his own clothing before leading Harry over to the bed.

Harry laid back, eyes focused on Draco, refusing to dwell on anything else but the sensation of warm hands running up the inside of his legs and over his stomach and chest. Draco placed reverent kisses to Harry's exposed skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in his wake as he slowly moved up Harry's body, which was slowly igniting with a heat that began to overpower the lingering sadness and hopelessness that he'd been drowning in.

Harry closed his eyes with a sigh as Draco's warm mouth finally found its way to his lips and kissed him deeply. He slid his hands up the silky soft skin of Draco's bare back and held him firmly in place as he opened his mouth to him, the kiss turning from slow and careful to heated and needy in seconds.

Harry moaned into Draco's mouth as the blond finally allowed his weight to settle fully on top of him. Harry spread his legs and Draco slotted into place perfectly, lining up their straining erections and creating the friction that Harry's body was craving. Draco thrust against him a few times, tongue delving deeply into Harry's mouth to taste and explore. Draco finally broke off when he had no breath left and began to kiss Harry's jaw, then his throat, breath coming out in hot pants of air as he gently bit into the soft slope of his shoulder, causing Harry to gasp and arch into him, legs coming up to wrap around Draco's hips, wanting more.

Draco moaned and returned his eager mouth back to Harry's lips to catch them in another deep kiss as he rocked against him.

Harry kept his eyes closed, positive that he'd never felt this shamelessly wanton in his entire life. No one-night stand had ever reduced him to this stimulated mass of arousal before, and he knew it never could. This man in his arms _knew_ him; knew what turned him on, what he needed without words, knew his likes and his dislikes like no one else ever would or ever could. Draco was gentle and caring beyond what Harry ever could have imagined three years ago - and he was never more appreciative of that fact than right in that moment.

Harry arched up with a loud moan as a slick finger probed his entrance then gently pushed inside. So lost in the moment and overwhelming sensations, he hadn't even noticed Draco reaching for the lube on his nightstand.

Harry kept his eyes closed and allowed himself the freedom of letting go and just feeling. Gentle prodding fingers carefully stretched and prepared him while a hot mouth lavished attention on his achingly rigid prick. He gasped and moaned and melted into the bed, losing all consciousness of time or surroundings, until Draco's lips were back on his and the burn of Draco stretching him wide as he firmly pushed inside had his eyes flying back open with a soft gasp.

He blinked up at Draco's face looming over him in the dim light, grey eyes staring intently into his until he was fully seated. Harry exhaled slowly when Draco stilled to wait for him to adjust to the intrusion.

He knew there would never be a more perfect moment to tell Draco that he loved him, but he knew it would only ruin the moment, would ruin everything. "Don't stop," Harry whispered instead, drowning in grey eyes that, in the weak light, could almost fool him into believing that they were gazing back at him with love.

At Harry's words, Draco began to move, a sigh of what Harry assumed to be relief escaping his lips.

Harry's eyes fell closed as Draco smoothly pushed in and out of him, rocking him into the mattress without urgency, breath catching every few thrusts and causing Harry's heart to stutter and his cock to throb.

Harry opened his eyes with a bitten-off groan as Draco's oiled hand suddenly wrapped around his erection and began to stroke. He went from a lazy build-up towards orgasm to suddenly on the precipice - and he wasn't ready for it.

Draco suddenly increased his speed and the force of his thrusts into Harry's tight channel and Harry didn't even try to stop the moan this time; throwing his head back and arching up into every sensation Draco was giving him. Draco's hips snapped forward, quick and fierce as he stared down with rapt attention at Harry, seeming to drink in the noises and expressions flashing across his face.

Harry didn't want it to end but his body betrayed him as he felt his orgasm fast approaching. He forced his eyes open and watched Draco moving above him; blond brows drawn together as though in concentration, beads of perspiration on his flushed chest, eyes heavy and lidded with arousal as he stared down at Harry. Harry had to bite his lip hard to keep from moaning Draco's name.

A twist of a hand on his cock and suddenly Harry was crying out and spurting all over his stomach and chest in warm jets that seemed to go on and on forever, aftershocks of his intense orgasm still ripping through him as Draco released his hold on Harry's cock and thrust into him with erratic abandonment.

Harry's eyes were glued to him, not wanting to miss a moment. He watched as Draco suddenly thrust in deeply and froze, stifling a moan as he pulsed inside of Harry. The feeling was almost enough to arouse Harry again as he felt Draco come inside of him.

Draco collapsed onto his forearms on either side of Harry, breathing fast and shallow.

Harry reached up to stroke damp blond hair with one hand, ignoring the sticky mess of sweat and cooling semen between their bodies. He placed a gentle kiss to Draco's shoulder, unable to stop himself. He was past caring whether or not Draco would be scared off by the display of affection.

Draco seemed to come to himself then and he slowly pushed back and slipped out of Harry before shifting to lie next to him, one arm thrown over closed eyes as he lay there, his breathing beginning to even out once more.

Harry turned onto his side to look at him. He knew Draco would soon leave, like he always did, but Harry just couldn't face it this time. Not today, not when Draco had chased away Harry's depression as though he was more than just a 'friend with benefits,' as though Draco loved him in return. He wasn't ready to lose that warm feeling just yet because he knew the cold tendrils of sadness would come creeping back in if he was alone.

He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and the blond raised his arm to glance over. "Stay?" Harry asked quietly, attempting to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Draco gazed at him for what felt like a very long time, silently assessing, and then finally nodded.

Relief washed over Harry - along with a bone-deep lethargy - and he turned onto his other side and closed his eyes, hoping Draco really would stay the night, even after Harry had fallen asleep.

His eyes flew back open in surprise when Draco shifted to spoon him from behind, one arm wrapping around his chest and holding him close. Harry knew that both and he and Draco were drifting into dangerous territory with this sort of behaviour but he didn't care. Draco had done exactly what Harry had needed him to do: he'd made Harry forget, if even for just a little while, that he'd upset his friends and that his life was coming to a close in only just over a year.


	11. We've Still Got Time

Harry frowned as he blinked heavy eyes open and stared at the darkened wall of his bedroom. His fuzzy sleep-addled brain immediately noted two things: that it was still the middle of the night, and that the warm presence of Draco was no longer lying beside him.

He tried to ignore the heavy weight of disappointment that settled in his stomach as he turned over onto his back. It was then that his eyes caught sight of a dark figure sitting on the edge of his bed, nearest the window, and his heart lurched before he recognised the bright blond hair illuminated in the pale light.

Harry slowly sat up, frowning in concern as he took in Draco's defeated posture: hunched shoulders, elbows resting on knees and head in hands, long fingers clenched in dishevelled hair.

"Draco? Are you alright?"

Draco didn't move from his position as he replied in a detached voice, "this has to end Potter."

"What does?" Harry asked, stomach clenching with apprehension.

Draco finally turned to glance over his shoulder and Harry almost flinched at the tight lines of anguish around his eyes. "This - us," he said, waving a hand in the air between them. "I can't do this with you anymore."

Harry swallowed as he pulled the sheet up around his waist, suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was still naked. Draco had dressed in his discarded clothing, his shirt only half fastened, looking as though some of the buttons were in the wrong holes and hanging at uneven angles. "You mean the erm, fooling around stuff?" he asked, feeling foolish because he really _didn't_ know what to call it.

Draco sighed as he rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Yes," he replied in a pinched tone.

Part of Harry didn't want to ask any more questions, he didn't want to know the reason why, but the other part of him, the part that was deeply in love with the man sitting across from him, was infinitely stronger.

"Why?"

Draco dropped his gaze to the twisted blankets on the bed and huffed out a breath as though frustrated. "Because I've unfortunately developed very inconvenient feelings for you."

Harry's breath caught in his throat and his heart immediately swelled with a happiness that he hadn't felt for a very long time. He had to bite his lip to keep from saying anything too impulsive; the 'I have feelings for you too,' or even more humiliating, 'I'm in love with you!' were squashed down with some difficulty.

He could never quite imagine his feelings for Draco actually being returned; he had steadfastly ignored the twinge of guilt in his chest any time he thought he caught a look of affection or detected a hint of longing that went beyond just sex from the other man.

It was then that he suddenly felt the heavy weight of remorse settle in the pit of his stomach. Pansy was right, he'd allowed Draco to get too close and now Draco was going to pay the price for his utter selfishness. He cleared his throat and met Draco's gaze as the blond glanced up, waiting for Harry's response, eyes full of distress and a not-quite-concealed trace of hope. The blond obviously desired to hear the same thing in return, even if it was ill-advised and completely foolhardy.

But Harry couldn't do it; he couldn't make the situation worse. He had to stop being selfish.

"I see," Harry replied slowly, looking away and attempting to inject a sense of awkward discomfiture, as though he didn't return Draco's sentiments in the least and didn't know quite what to say to him. It hurt to do it but he knew it would do the trick, he knew Draco well enough by now to know that the blond wouldn't push the issue, wouldn't put himself out there and ask Harry outright if he felt the same way. "It's probably best we stop then."

An unbearable silence ensued which Harry desperately wanted to break, he wanted to take it all back and tell Draco that he loved him, but he bit his tongue and waited.

The mattress squeaked as Draco shifted, causing Harry to finally drag his gaze back up. Draco was standing and re-buttoning his shirt with steady hands and a blank face. The sight made Harry's heart ache.

"I'm sorry," Harry offered quietly, needing to say _something_. "Do… do you want me to move out?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco replied, still buttoning his shirt. "This isn't your fault, that won't be necessary."

Harry's conscience prickled with guilt at Draco's words. "Are you sure? Can… do you think we can still be friends?"

Draco finally met his anxious gaze with cool grey. "Of course," he said with a forced smirk that lacked his usual Malfoy conviction and droll amusement. "I'm not that far gone Potter."

Harry nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you alright on your own now?" Draco asked once he was properly dressed.

Harry wanted to say no; to vehemently shake his head in refusal and demand that Draco climb back into bed and stay for the rest of the night like he'd promised - but he also knew that Draco was merely asking out of politeness and that he had no desire to linger now.

"Yeah," Harry said roughly, he quickly cleared his throat before flashing a falsely bright smile. "I'll be fine. Thanks again for everything you did today, I really appreciate it."

Draco nodded once and then seemed to hesitate before nodding sharply again, as though conducting an internal dialogue with himself, then he quickly turned to exit the room without another word.

Harry swallowed the whimper of self-loathing that threatened to erupt as the door clicked shut. He knew he'd done the right thing by not telling Draco the truth. The truth might only encourage him to contemplate ludicrous things; like pursuing a fruitless relationship with a dying man.

Harry dropped his head into his hands. As fucked up as their 'relationship' was, he didn't know how to go on without it now. He knew without a doubt that he and Draco couldn't go back to just being friends. Maybe Draco wasn't _in love_ with him, but he had felt strongly enough to want to stop everything in the name of self-preservation. Draco had been scared, that much was obvious, and that fact tore Harry apart; the fact that a man who rarely opened up to other people and who had hinted at the fact that he thought _real_ relationships were for the naïve, had finally fallen prey to love himself - but a love that he couldn't hope to hold on to.

Harry bleakly looked around the bedroom that had been his for so long now. The walls were bare, with no personal touches or mementos hanging about; it was the room of someone who would not be a permanent occupant. Harry had kept all of his past belongings in a box pushed to the back of the wardrobe and there was nothing else in the room but his clothing and a few books. It suddenly felt empty and yet claustrophobic at the same time.

Harry was out of bed before he even registered what he was doing. He quickly dressed in a t-shirt and jeans before beginning to methodically pack all of his things into the large duffel bag that he'd brought here over a year ago. He shrunk his box of mementos, glad that he'd already given Draco his parting gift, and placed it into the bag as well. He left the books on his bedside table, hoping Draco might read them as he wouldn't have use for them for much longer. He left the still opened tube of lubricant that Draco had used last night where it was, swallowing thickly and trying not to think of Draco using it with someone else in the future.

He walked out towards the kitchen as quietly as he could, glancing behind him up the short hallway towards Draco's sealed bedroom door. In all this time, he'd never set foot or even caught a glimpse of the inside of Draco's room. It became clear early on that Draco didn't want Harry in there, as though the action of allowing another man into his bedroom was too much, too personal, and he'd never invited Harry inside. They'd always used Harry's bed or the sofa or the kitchen table…

Harry turned away from the door after ensuring that Draco's lights were out. He placed his bag by the kitchen door before grabbing a piece of parchment and quill from the counter. He stood chewing the end for a moment, trying to think of what to say without sounding maudlin or causing Draco to feel guilty. He quickly scrawled that he was sorry about the mess and that he thought it was probably time to spread himself out between his other friends anyway, that he'd inconvenienced Draco long enough. He made sure to mention that he would like to continue assisting Draco with his security endeavours - if he still didn't mind the added company and fairly useless and impractical suggestions.

Harry certainly didn't want Draco thinking that he wished to avoid him for the rest of his life.

Harry left the note on the table under an empty glass tumbler and then quickly grabbed his bag and jogged down the stairs. He made sure to disable all the wards and devices before making his way through Draco's maze of paranoia. He didn't want to set off any alarms and alert Draco to his shamefully spineless departure.

Harry threw on his thick winter coat then opened the door to the shop and stepped outside into the frosty night air of Knockturn Alley. He closed the door and resealed it with his wand, using the carefully precise wand movements and whispered incantations required. He didn't reactivate the invisible camera atop the door frame; Draco would just have to do it himself in the morning.

Harry turned and began to walk away when he suddenly noticed a cloaked figure walking towards him from the other end of the cobbled alleyway. He frowned; it was three in the morning and even Knockturn Alley didn't often have visitors at that time of the night.

The person stopped as they caught sight of Harry and immediately turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Harry raised a brow and was about to disregard the whole event when he spotted a bright piece of parchment clutched in the person's hand just before they disappeared around the corner into Diagon Alley. His eyes widened with realisation and he immediately dropped his bag and took chase, withdrawing his wand as he ran.

This had to be Draco's stalker, otherwise why would they have reacted like that? And why else would they be walking in the direction of Draco's shop at such an odd hour?

Harry could feel his adrenaline pumping as he ran, wand clenched tightly in one hand. He rounded the corner, almost slipping over on the rain-slickened stones, and was immediately struck in the arm with a fairly potent stinging hex.

The attack took Harry by surprise and he dropped his wand as he hissed in pain, his left hand coming up to grip his throbbing bicep as he simultaneously dropped into a crouch to protect himself from further attack. It only took a moment for him to recover his wand but it was enough for him to lose sight of his assailant.

He slowly stood up and looked around; Diagon Alley was silent and empty.

Harry stood rooted to the spot, quickened breaths puffing out in frosty white clouds as he deliberated on whether he was being watched from the shadows or not. He didn't get the sense that someone was still there, observing him, so after a few minutes he headed back to Knockturn Alley to retrieve his bag.

Diagon Alley was still vacant when Harry returned a few minutes later with his bag slung over one shoulder. As he walked through the quiet street, glancing around with wand in hand, he spied a familiar-looking piece of parchment lying in a puddle of water next to Madam Malkin's. He hefted his bag further up on his shoulder as he stooped down to retrieve the sodden paper.

The fallen note was indeed from Draco's mysterious stalker and contained another seemingly idle threat. The person had been threatening action for some time now, and Harry was beginning to wonder if that's all they were prepared to do - although the stinging hex had been a fairly hostile action, he thought as he rubbed his bicep with a wince.

Harry pocketed the note and made his way through Diagon Alley without running into anyone else. He Disapparated from the appointed point of travel location near The Leaky Cauldron and landed out in the middle of the dirt road next to The Burrow.

Still under the cover of darkness, where only the barest hint of a brilliant orange sunrise was peeking out over the horizon, Harry snuck into the Weasley's back garden and into their large cluttered garden shed where his broom was leaning against the far wall.

Once he was back outside, he straddled his Firebolt, finding comfort in the feel of the familiar wooden handle gripped between his hands, and kicked off from the ground. He spent the next few hours soaring over the countryside, way up in the clouds, or lying sprawled out on the dew-covered grass of random meadows and hillsides all around the shire. His mind was blessedly blank for once, and he forced himself to focus only on the sights and smells around him, to just be present in the moment and let everything else fall away for the time being.

When the hour wasn't quite so obnoxious, Harry made his way over to Ron and Hermione's home in Devon.

He laid his Firebolt down on their front porch next to his duffel bag and knocked on the door.

"Harry?" Hermione said in confusion as she opened the door, curly hair still in fuzzy disarray from sleep.

Harry's responding smile was all fondness. "Hullo," he said, "sorry it's so early."

"No, it's fine," she replied instantly, still looking puzzled. "Did you want to come in?" Her eyes slid to Harry's duffel bag and broom sitting on the porch and her confusion was replaced with trepidation. "Are you going somewhere?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not really, I'm leaving Draco's flat and looking for a new place to stay. I was thinking of asking Neville," he added quickly, not wanting his friend to think that he was there to impose on their little love nest. "I just wanted to talk to Ron about something first."

"Of course, come in," Hermione replied, still appearing concerned as she stepped back and waved him inside.

Harry followed her to the kitchen to see Ron watching over a toaster filled with four thick slices of bread.

"Hey Harry," Ron greeted in surprise. "Did you miss us already?"

Harry chuckled. It seemed as though it had been ages since he'd been there telling them the awful news - but it had only been a matter of hours.

"Hungry?" Hermione asked as she walked over to fill a waiting kettle with water from the tap.

"Yeah, famished actually," Harry replied as he leaned back against the counter.

"So… any reason in particular that you're leaving Malfoy's place?" Hermione asked casually, eyes on the teacups she was levitating from the overhead cupboard.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest as he watched his two best friends move around their kitchen with practiced ease; preparing breakfast as they probably had a hundred times before. "Yeah," he said with a sigh, watching Ron deftly add more bread to the toaster before moving on to buttering the finished toast. "I kind of fell in love with him."

Ron and Hermione both stopped what they were doing and glanced at each other before turning to Harry; neither one of them looking all that shocked by the news.

"You don't look surprised." Harry frowned. "Why aren't you surprised?"

Ron merely shrugged. "It was plain as day mate."

Hermione smiled sympathetically at him. "Yeah, we actually thought that's what you were coming over to tell us last night." Her smile faltered as she recalled what _had_ transpired the night before. She quickly gave her head a shake, obviously trying to avoid becoming mired in melancholy.

"But… _how_ did you know?" Harry demanded. " _Draco_ doesn't even know."

"Still?" Hermione replied in confusion.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he told me last night that he'd developed _inconvenient feelings_ for me and that we couldn't er, fool around anymore." He stopped and glanced uncertainly at Ron.

"I knew," Ron said, looking unfazed. "Even if I hadn't guessed before, New Year's Eve confirmed it - for all of us."

Harry flushed a little as he nodded in acceptance. "I agreed that we had to stop too," he continued, "without telling Draco that I felt the same way and… and I left. In the middle of the night. Without telling him."

"Harry!" Hermione chastised as the kettle began to whistle behind her. She turned to prepare the tea, still reprimanding him with her back turned. "Why would you do such a thing to him? He's been nothing but nice to you since your return."

Harry felt the guilt swamp him again at her tone. "I know, it was cowardly and… and horrible, but I couldn't face telling him that I needed to move out because he would probably try to talk me out of it and then he'd probably demand to know _why_ I had to leave… and I don't want him to know how I feel." He stopped and ran an agitated hand through his tangled hair. "Look, I've spent the past few years trying to avoid this exact situation. I don't want anyone to fall in love with me, what would be the point? They'll only get hurt - _Draco_ will only get hurt, and I couldn't live with myself if I… if I let him love me when it can't go anywhere. When it can't last."

Hermione turned back around with a sorrowful look on her face. "Oh Harry… don't you think it's already too late?"

Harry shook his head, resolute. "No, he's not in love with me; he only said that he has _feelings_ for me."

Hermione looked unconvinced, but she turned away to finish the tea without saying another word.

"Are you looking for a place to stay then?" Ron asked, deftly switching topics as he too returned to preparing breakfast.

"Yeah, I thought I'd check with Neville, see if I can sleep on his sofa for a bit or something. I might just move around between everyone, or maybe rent somewhere..." He left the 'short term' unsaid.

The three settled around the table with their tea and toast and a veritable cornucopia of flavoured spreads.

Harry munched on his toast and washed it down with some soothing Earl Grey, slowly relaxing a little more with every comforting sip.

"So… is your plan to never speak to Draco again?" Hermione asked a few minutes later, clearly unable to help herself.

Harry snorted. "No, I'm not about to do anything _that_ dramatic Hermione. I still want to be friends, and so does he."

Hermione watched him. "So… you _are_ going to owl him to let him know you're alive right? Won't he be worried?"

"I left a note. And speaking of notes…" Harry shifted on his seat and reached into his jeans pocket to retrieve the crumpled parchment the stalker had dropped. "I saw Draco's infamous stalker this morning, caught them in the act of coming to leave another note on the door around three."

"Three?" Ron repeated with a raised brow.

"It was a rough night," Harry replied simply, skimming over what was an emotionally turbulent event with an offhand shrug.

"For us too," Hermione said quietly before taking a sip of her tea.

Harry looked at her in understanding; a silent apology in his eyes.

"So did you get a good look at them?" Ron asked, returning to the subject at hand and sounding like the official Auror he was.

Harry shook his head. "No not really," he said with a frustrated sigh. "It was dark and they were wearing a cloak with a hood. All I could tell was that they were fairly short, shorter than me." He paused for a second then continued. "And I, er kind of chased them into Diagon Alley where they surprised me with a stinging hex then disappeared."

Hermione gasped, and Harry thought she would have reached out to slap him upside the head had he been within reach. Even Ron looked disapproving.

"Mate, I know you're Harry Potter and all but… you can't just chase unknown criminals on your own like that."

"Yes they could have really hurt you Harry," Hermione scolded.

"Unless the person's a complete nutter, they kept saying in their notes that their sole purpose was to protect me, so I didn't really think they'd do me any serious harm," Harry explained. "They keep leaving letters, making all these threats, but never actually following through with them. I think they're just bluffing but I don't know why, so I brought the note to you Ron; I think perhaps it's time the Aurors were involved."

Ron took the note from Harry's outstretched hand and quickly glanced at it before setting it down on the table next to his breakfast plate. "I think you're right."

Harry nodded and the three fell into silence as they finished their breakfast.

Ron left soon afterwards for work; crimson Auror robes hanging off his shoulders and the stalker's latest note clutched in one hand.

Hermione and Harry wandered out to the front porch and sat in a couple of wooden chairs, watching the sun rise behind the cloud bank and enjoying the stillness of the quiet country-side for a few minutes before Hermione had to leave for the office as well.

"You know you can stay with us if you want Harry," Hermione said, breaking the silence as she wrapped what looked like an orange and yellow hand-knit Molly Weasley blanket around her shoulders.

Harry smiled, looking out over the empty country lane. "I know. Thanks for the offer but I'll speak to Neville first, he lives alone and I won't feel like I'm intruding as much." He paused and looked over at Hermione with a grin. "I've always been the third wheel."

Hermione giggled. "Never Harry, you're always welcome." She cocked her head to one side, contemplating. "Was it ever weird for you when Ron and I finally got together? You never said."

Harry laughed. "No, I saw it coming."

"Just like you and Malfoy," she countered, eyes twinkling.

Harry rolled his eyes but returned her smile.

"Are you sure this is the best course of action Harry?" Hermione broached gently. "If Draco is already in love with you - which he probably is," she added swiftly as he opened his mouth to argue the fact. "Then it's not going to hurt any less when the time comes, you're just robbing yourself of something that could make you really happy."

Harry was already shaking his head before she'd finished her sentence. "I can't do it Hermione. A real relationship is vastly different to what we've been doing so far behind closed doors. It would… it would be so much worse to have something so perfect ripped away from you…"

"Perfect?" Hermione repeated softly, studying him. "You really do love him, don't you?"

Harry looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap. "Yeah," he exhaled, "I do. He's all the things everyone sees; handsome, clever, sarcastic - but he's also so much more. He has a side to him that is incredibly caring and perceptive… you wouldn't believe how well he seems to understand me." He paused and sighed again, unhappy. "As crazy as it sounds, I know it would be as close to perfect as a relationship could be were we to pursue it. No doubt we would row and want to throttle each other at times, but we would also challenge each other in a way that we both probably need."

Hermione's lips twitched up into a gentle smile as she leaned back in her chair and watched her friend's face light up as he spoke about his one-time nemesis. "Harry, have you ever thought about the fact that both Ron and I love you as well? Obviously not in the same way that Draco does, but you're my family, always have been, and you haven't distanced yourself from _us_ to make it easier."

Harry glanced at her and smiled reluctantly. "You're too clever for your own good, do you know that?" he said before turning back to the misty road spread out in front of Ron and Hermione's pretty home. "If you remember, I did distance myself for a while." Harry leaned his head back against the chair's worn wooden backing and closed his eyes with a sigh. "It's different with you guys because my dying doesn't change the course of your lives, it may affect you but not in the way that losing someone who is the centre of your whole world would. Imagine losing Ron and suddenly you're in that kitchen on your own, making breakfast by yourself, or sleeping alone in a bed where you once were never cold or never alone…"

Hermione bit her lip and looked away.

Harry opened his eyes and turned towards her. "I don't want Draco to waste any of his life mourning me, mourning our relationship, when he could be out there finding someone that doesn't have an expiry date. I want him to be happy because he's made _me_ happy. I got to experience falling in love, which is more than I could have hoped for almost five years ago. If there's one thing I've learned in my fucked up existence, it's that life is precious and fragile - and not to be wasted. So I won't allow Draco to waste any of his life on me."

"But isn't that Draco's choice as much as it is yours?" she ventured quietly, turning to face him.

Harry looked at her a moment before getting to his feet and collecting his waiting bag and broom. "Draco didn't say anything about being together," he said, turning to her. "In fact, all he stated was that he had developed inconvenient feelings for me and that he wanted to stop what we were doing. So perhaps I'm making a bigger deal out of this then I should be."

Hermione stood, pulling her blanket more securely around her. "But he would be with you in a heartbeat if you were to allow it, wouldn't he?"

"I dunno." Harry shrugged, and then the memory of Draco's eyes shining with a barely concealed hope suddenly flashed before him. "Maybe. But it doesn't matter because I'm making the decision for the both of us. It's better this way, he knows it too or else he wouldn't have wanted to stop."

Hermione frowned but merely stepped forward and hugged him, his bag bumping into her side as he awkwardly wrapped one arm around her in return.

"Don't worry about me 'Mione, I'm fine," he assured.

Hermione pulled back and gave him a wobbly smile. "Let me know once you've settled somewhere so that I know where you are."

"Yes mum," Harry teased, unable to stop himself.

Hermione laughed and gave his hand a squeeze before walking back into the house and closing the door.

Harry turned away and walked up the front path towards the road. He felt better after his discussion with Hermione; saying everything out loud had definitely been cathartic, and while he still felt awful about how he'd left things with Draco, he knew that he would make it up to the blond soon enough.

Harry sat astride his Firebolt and took off for Neville's home.


	12. Raise Your Hopeful Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a short one this time. It's a bit on the fluffy side so probably the shorter the better ;) Also, for those wanting to know, there will be 15 chapters in all plus an Epilogue.

"Thanks again for letting me stay," Harry said as he slipped into his warm winter coat just inside the door to Neville's tiny flat.

"No problem, it'll be nice to have the company," Neville smiled, holding a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. "So, where are you house-hunting today?"

"Godric's Hollow," Harry replied, "thought I'd go back to my roots for my last year. There's a two bedroom cottage for rent on the outskirts of the village that I have my eye on." He paused and shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. "I dunno, it's probably daft but it feels like the right thing to do."

"Doesn't sound daft at all," Neville replied instantly.

Harry smiled at his friend before turning to open the door. "I guess I'll see you this afternoon?"

Neville nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, I'll be here. Spaghetti Bolognese alright with you?"

"You really don't have to feed me…" Harry protested half-heartedly; he absolutely loved pasta.

"It's no trouble at all," Neville replied dismissively. "I like cooking."

"Then I'll bring the sticky toffee pudding," Harry declared with a grin. He waved goodbye before heading out into the hall and down the stairs to the front entrance of the four-storey brick building.

He sighed in pleasure as he strolled up the narrow street in the muted winter sunshine, feeling a great deal better than he had two nights ago. He'd managed to have a full night's sleep thanks to Neville's stock of Dreamless Sleep potions and was feeling all the healthier for it; his mind felt clear and more at ease with the decision he'd made regarding Draco. The blond hadn't tried to contact Harry since his abrupt departure, even though he'd certainly found the note by now.

Harry frowned a little as he thought on it; he hoped Draco wasn't upset with him. He swiftly promised himself that he would visit Draco in his shop tomorrow and make sure there were no hard feelings, and if there were, then he would try to fix it in whatever way he could.

Harry pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he Disapparated to Godric's Hollow. He appeared at one end of the village, near the destroyed home of his parents, and began to walk up the quiet road. He barely spared a glance at the once happy home of Lily and James Potter; he'd seen it before, and once was more than enough to behold the blackened second storey of his childhood home.

While he'd been to the village a few times before, he'd never had the opportunity to explore the place at his leisure; to really see the village and get a sense of what it was like to live there, what the few inhabitants were like and what their daily lives comprised of.

Harry walked through the centre of the village, nodding shortly at the few people he saw, their eyes widening in recognition but thankfully not approaching him. He glanced through the window of the Post Office as he passed by and saw about ten owls perched in an orderly row above the desk clerk's station. The young clerk was frowning in concentration as he busily sorted through a pile of coins from a small leather pouch on the desk.

Harry continued on, pausing in front of the darkened windows of the village pub. The pub was painted a deep forest green with black and gold trim, but it was peeling in places as though it had been battered by stormy weather for some years and was in need of recoating. Harry smiled up at the wooden sign swinging in the breeze above the door; the place still looked as though it would be warm and inviting on a cold winter's night, and he could picture his mum and dad drinking there in a happier time.

He moved on, skirting around the large war memorial in the centre square that was a tribute to his parent's last stand, and continued up the road to the other end of the village. He knew it would take some getting used to; seeing the reminders of that fateful Halloween night around town, as well as allowing the residents time to get used to the idea of seeing a Potter living amongst them again. He wondered if some might be concerned for their safety if he moved in, if they thought him a curse on their small country village.

Harry walked up to the last cottage in the row on the right-hand side and stopped. The cottage had a 'To Let' sign in the window and fit the description in The Prophet advertisement. He squinted up at the building, taking in the mottled grey stones and tiled roof, the pretty white trim windows and glass doors with an appraising eye. The place appeared well kept, including the front garden which had a short brick wall bordering the road.

Harry smiled, feeling as though he were attached to the little cottage already. It would certainly suit his needs. After wandering the garden and peering in through the windows he had firmly decided on contacting the proprietor to inquire after the place.

Harry meandered back down the road, hands tucked into his coat pockets for warmth, and hesitated outside the church, eyes flicking to the small graveyard adjacent to the quaint old cathedral. An inexplicable pulling from deep within him caused Harry to push through the gates and enter the quiet graveyard.

He walked between the rows, heading straight towards where he knew his parent's grave to be situated. There was a fine dusting of snow on the ground and on top of all the headstones, including the one which marked the last resting place of Lily and James Potter.

Harry stopped in front of it and crouched down, gaze tracing the etchings in the pale marble. He glanced around the empty graveyard before turning back to the silent stone and clearing his throat.

"Hi," he started self-consciously, then smiled a little as he pictured their amused faces at his shyness. The thought immediately comforted him and drove away his reticence. "I hope you don't mind me moving here, I promise it's not because of some morbid wish to die where you died, or even to wallow in my own sadness, I just want to live here for a while. I've never really belonged anywhere other than Hogwarts, and I can hardly move in to a spare room in the castle for a year." He stopped and chuckled a little at the thought. "So this is second best."

He paused again, absently brushing some snow from out of the crevices of the letters carved into the white marble. "I guess you already know what's going to happen to me, so I won't bore you with the details, but I do hope you're not worrying over it. I'll be fine; I know you both are there, wherever _there_ is. I'm not scared, not really. I just…" He sighed and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the frozen ground, uncaring of the thin layer of snow. "I just wish that I could stay here a while longer. Actually, for a _long_ while longer. You see, I've sort of fallen in love with someone and they… they have feelings for me too, which would be brilliant if I wasn't about to… well, you know."

Harry sighed and leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees. "I hope you don't mind that it's a boy," he continued. "I know you probably already know that about me, but… I just wanted you to know. He… he's great." He stopped and laughed, hearing how ridiculously trite he sounded. "Obviously he's more than great, he's… perfect. For me anyway. He's a bit of a ponce and sometimes I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not, but he… he cares about me, which is probably all you guys want to know in the end. Trouble is…" He paused and dropped his gaze to the loose shoelace on his trainer, fingers idly toying with it as he gathered his thoughts.

"The trouble is, he doesn't open himself up to people easily, hardly at all in fact, but I somehow managed to get him to open up to me, to grow close to me, and I can't help but feel really guilty about it. I wish… I wish I'd noticed earlier so that I could've stopped it." He exhaled noisily and shook his head. "I know this sounds absurd, I'm not sure you _can_ stop from falling in love with someone, I know _I_ wouldn't have been able to stop … but this affects him so much more than me. I get to enjoy being in love and spending time with him until I… until the end, but he… he has to go on without me. I'm not sure how much he cares for me but if the situation was reversed, I know I would go out of my mind."

Harry stopped abruptly, fingers clenching around his sodden shoelace.

"I never ran away from my problems until the day Dumbledore told me I had five years to live. I ran away for more than two years to try to escape the inevitable, and now maybe I'm doing it again - and perhaps I shouldn't be. Perhaps I should leave the choice up to Draco if he wants to be with me or not. Maybe _I'm_ the one who shouldn't have a say."

Harry trailed off and raised his gaze to his parent's names in front of him.

"I really wish you were here to advise me - to tell me what to do," he said with a rueful smile. "I could really use the help."

The graveyard was quiet around him except for the odd snapping of a branch under the weight of the snow or from a bird taking flight. Harry reluctantly pushed himself to his feet and brushed the snow from his jeans, though most of it had already soaked through to his skin.

"I'll see you later," he said, tucking his hands back into his pockets. "I'll be living close by soon enough and I can stop in regularly then." He paused and grinned. "Hopefully the town begins to suspect that I'm going mad, it'll keep life interesting."

He smiled and turned around to retrace his steps back through the powdered snow and out the gate.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon putting in his application for the cottage, the proprietor was most excited about Harry's decision to live in Godric's Hollow, and then he visited the pub for a quick pint. He spoke to the barkeep for a bit, who wasn't overly chatty but was friendly enough. One thing he did say was that he remembered serving Harry's father once upon a time and that James was always such a cheerful lad. Harry had smiled at that and the warm glow lasted all the way back to Neville's flat.

Just as he stepped through the door, he realised he'd forgotten to pick up the pudding.

"Neville?" he called down the hall as he kicked off his shoes and hung his coat on the stand. "I'm sorry I forgot the…" he trailed off as he walked into the kitchen to see Draco sitting alone at the table.

Draco looked up at his entrance and Harry noticed that the blond was holding what looked to be his goodbye note in one hand.

"Draco," Harry said once he'd sufficiently recovered, "what are you doing here?" He winced, hoping he didn't sound as accusatory as he sounded in his head.

Draco's grey eyes darkened and Harry instantly knew the Slytherin was furious.

"I'm here _Harry_ ," he replied in a tightly controlled voice, "because you are acting like a complete prat and I have no intention of letting you get away with it."

Harry swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling suddenly exposed. "I know," he readily agreed, "and for what it's worth, I'm sorry, I just thought it would be easier on you."

Draco's eyes flared and his knuckles whitened on the scrap of parchment in his hand. " _Easier_ on me? How is you leaving in the middle of the fucking night easier? I'd say that was easier for _you_ Potter."

Harry almost flinched at the use of his surname spoken in a way that he hadn't heard since their early days at Hogwarts. "It _was_ easier on me to leave like that, I know," he admitted. "But my leaving was going to be easier on you in the long run. I don't… I didn't want you to…" He stopped, not knowing what to say as he didn't really know the depth of Draco's feelings for him and he didn't wish to embarrass himself by assuming anything.

"Are you in love with me?"

Harry froze, feeling as though all the blood was draining from his face. He quickly swallowed and forced a hollow laugh. "No, why would you think that?"

Draco stood and held up the crumpled parchment in his hand. Harry suddenly realised that it wasn't his goodbye letter clutched in the blond's hand but a blue post-it note: his New Year's resolution.

Harry's eyes widened as his gaze flew back up to meet steely grey. "How did you…?"

"Neville," Draco replied evenly, "and he also informed me of your irresponsible chase through the streets - which we'll get to later. For now, I want you to try answering my question again: are you in love with me?"

Harry wavered; green eyes dropping to the blue notepaper on which he quite clearly remembered writing ' _Enjoy being in love_.' He licked dry lips and forced himself to meet Draco's hardened gaze. What was he supposed to say? Surely the answer was already obvious by his hesitation.

"What do you want me to say?" he said weakly, not prepared to say the actual words aloud but also knowing that he couldn't keep up the pretense under Draco's intense scrutiny.

Draco looked even more furious as he turned and paced the small space. "Why didn't you say anything? Why the fuck did you let me say that I had feelings for you and then act like I did something wrong?"

Harry exhaled, feeling shaky. What had seemed like such a level-headed decision now suddenly seemed cruel and heartless. "I didn't mean… I didn't want you to get hurt. I figured that as long as I was only one whose feelings were on the line it was okay, because it didn't matter."

Draco stopped his pacing and turned to face him. "How long Harry? How long have you felt this way?" he demanded.

"Six months."

Draco's lips parted in shock, and for a moment, Harry could see the hurt and betrayal there before it was quickly covered up again. "Six months?" he repeated unbelievably.

Harry nodded. "I've known since you came to Sunday lunch at The Burrow."

Draco shook his head, incredulous. "Were you _never_ going to tell me?"

Harry knew it was time to step in and tell Draco his reasoning, to make him see sense in his actions. "I didn't tell you because I didn't think you felt the same way, and even if you had, what would've been the point? I'm going to die. Soon. I didn't want you to get hurt - I _don't_ want you to get hurt."

Draco turned and sat back down in his vacated chair, the fight drained out of him. "It's too fucking late for that Potter," he sighed, one hand on his temple, eyes closed. "Even when I'm livid with you I still care about you."

Harry slowly walked over and sat down in the chair next to him, watching as Draco absently tossed his New Year's resolution onto the table beside him, the words barely visible between the wrinkles in the paper from Draco's clenched fist.

"I could just keep doing things to make you angry - and eventually you'd hate me," Harry suggested tentatively.

Draco gave a tired smile and raised his head. "I already hate you," he replied without malice.

Harry smiled a little before running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "This is so fucked up," he commented, not knowing what else to say.

Draco snorted and nodded his head in agreement.

Harry looked at him. "I was going to visit you tomorrow morning," he said, needing Draco to know. "I wasn't planning on avoiding you or anything, I just wasn't going to tell you-"

"The truth?" Draco supplied with a raised brow.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, something like that."

Draco sighed then turned to face him full-on. "So now that you _have_ told me the truth, what are you going to do?"

"Do?" Harry frowned.

"Yes, about us."

"Us?" Harry repeated, feeling lost, then his eyes widened with comprehension. "You don't mean…" He stopped and shook his head. "If you're suggesting a real relationship between us then the answer is no - definitely not," he said firmly.

Draco's eyes narrowed defiantly. "Why?"

"Why?" Harry spluttered, jumping to his feet, needing to move. "Because you can't start a relationship with a dying man! Are you insane?"

"I've thought it through-"

"You obviously _haven't_ thought it through!" Harry exclaimed, gobsmacked. "Or else you wouldn't be saying such rubbish. Think about it Draco," he said, dropping back into his chair and leaning towards Draco intently, needing him to see reason. "Say we do jump into a relationship together, and it's brilliant and wonderful, and everything you ever wanted a relationship to be - and then suddenly it's ripped away from you after a year; after you've had a tiny glimpse of what your life could be like with someone you love and who loves you in return. How could you possibly _want that_?"

Draco searched his face for a moment. "That's how _you_ feel, isn't it? That's what these past six months have been for you."

Harry shook his head and had to look away, eyes stinging with the truth of Draco's words. "It doesn't matter, I'm not the one who will be left behind," he said with quiet resolve.

A heavy sigh was followed by the gentle slide of a warm hand over Harry's tightly clenched fists. Harry glanced up into grey eyes that were earnest and painfully vulnerable; the look caused his breath to hitch in his chest.

As soon as he had Harry's undivided attention, Draco continued. "As the one being left behind, I'd say the honour of that decision falls to me, and I say yes."

Harry made to get up but Draco stopped him by squeezing his hand over Harry's with deliberate force. Harry lifted wary eyes to Draco's face, not wanting to see that look again, knowing that his defences would crumble if Draco kept looking at him like that; like he mattered.

"You can't want this," Harry protested.

"Do _you_ want this?" Draco asked, giving his hand another squeeze. "If you weren't going to die, would you want to be with me?"

"Yes," Harry promptly replied, unwilling to deny it.

Draco smiled softly and moved one hand to gently cup Harry's cheek and Harry instantly leaned into the touch. "Good," he said, "it's settled then."

Harry's lips lifted into a cautious smile as he opened eyes he was unaware of having closed. "I still think you're barmy."

Draco smirked as his hand slid around to the back of Harry's neck and pulled him in for a soft, tentative kiss.

Harry's eyes drifted shut again as he pressed his lips back against Draco's and opened his mouth to him, almost whimpering at the myriad of sensations filling him. Merlin it was good to be kissing Draco again; savouring the familiar taste of him and inhaling the unforgettable smell of him, the one that made his heart ache with want and a general feeling of home. Made so much better now that he knew Draco felt something for him in return.

Harry carefully shifted without breaking contact so that he was straddling Draco's lap; legs hanging off both sides of the chair and arms securely wound around his neck. He gently caught Draco's bottom lip in his teeth before drawing back and burying his face in the side of Draco's neck with a contented sigh. Draco enfolded him in his arms and held him close, laying his blond head against Harry's dark mop of hair.

It was the first time they'd kissed without it strictly being for the purpose of leading to something more. This time it was simply an unspoken representation of their feelings for each other and the obvious relief they were both feeling in that moment. For such a common, every-day display of affection, it made Harry's heart pound in his chest with an indescribable joy.

Harry pulled back to look into Draco's eyes with serious intent written all over his face. "If at any time you want to abandon this foolishness, just say the word and I won't argue."

"Harry-" Draco started with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

"No, I'm serious," Harry persisted, needing this caveat in order for him to be at ease with this. "Promise me that you will end this the moment you feel as though it's too much or that you won't be able to handle it any longer."

Draco held his gaze a moment, looking as though he wanted to argue, but in the end he conceded with a reluctantly murmured, "alright."

Harry nodded in satisfaction then smiled as he leaned in to press another kiss to Draco's tempting lips. "Where's Neville?" he asked as he pulled back, suddenly realising what a compromising position they were in.

"He left," Draco answered simply, "wanted to give us some time to talk things over."

Harry raised his brow in surprise. "So you told him everything?"

"Mmm hmm…" Draco murmured distractedly, unable to resist kissing the exposed column of Harry's pale throat. He suddenly stopped and pulled back to glare at Harry reproachfully. "He had a few things to tell me as well Potter."

Harry frowned and wanted to stand to distance himself from Draco's scowl, but the Slytherin would have none of it and held tight to his hips, fingers digging in.

"Did you really chase after some nutter in the middle of the night on your own?"

"Er, yeah…" Harry replied slowly. "But it wasn't just some nutter, it was your stalker. I think."

"And did you really get hit with a spell?"

"It was just a stinging hex," Harry replied with an unconcerned shrug.

Draco narrowed his eyes then abruptly moved his hands to grip Harry's biceps.

Harry couldn't stop the wince from flashing across his face as Draco's grip came into contact with the tender welt on his arm.

Draco sighed and immediately relaxed his grip. "Harry…"

"Don't worry, I told Ron and the Aurors are handling it now," he quickly cut in before Draco could chastise him further.

Draco's tense expression relaxed slightly. "I suppose I'll become accustomed to reckless behaviour if I'm dating Harry Potter," he finally said.

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Did that feel as strange to say as it did to hear?" he asked.

Draco smirked and Harry could see in his eyes that he had been forgiven - for everything.

Harry reluctantly climbed off of Draco's lap and stood up. "Now what?" he asked, suddenly uncertain. He wasn't sure what their new relationship would mean for living arrangements or meals or how it would affect his daily life... Would they go on _dates_?

Draco stood and brushed the wrinkles from his trousers before replying. "I can see you thinking too hard already," he quipped. "Do you still want to live in Godric's Hollow? Neville told me where you went today, and what you were doing there."

In the wake of Draco's surprise visit, Harry had forgotten about his little cottage. "Oh right, I completely forgot," he said. "I signed a rental agreement for a cottage today…"

Draco smiled, unperturbed. "Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" he suggested as he took in Harry's flustered expression.

Harry's taut shoulders instantly relaxed at Draco's affectionate smile and composed tone; this new relationship between them wasn't something he needed to think about, it just had to stay the same as it was before, just with the added benefit of acting on all those little impulses that he'd wanted to for the last six months. All the times he'd wanted to hold the blond's hand or kiss him just for the sake of kissing him, he could now do without censure or fear of rebuke.

Any niggling doubts or questions about why Draco would be willing to put himself through this sort of heartache, were firmly pushed to back of his mind as he followed Draco out the door.


	13. You Have A Choice

**'Harry Potter in Illicit Relationship with Former Death Eater!'**

**Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and darling of the Wizarding World, is rumoured to be in a relationship with notorious Death Eater Draco Malfoy. Draco is the son of the late Lucius Malfoy; whom was widely known to be the right-hand man of the Dark Lord himself. Inside sources close to the Potter boy have said that he is dating Mr. Malfoy exclusively and that they may even be living together in Godric's Hollow where Harry's parents Lily and James met their untimely demise. Should the Wizarding World be concerned? Will young Malfoy influence our Chosen One into becoming the next Dark Lord? We can only hope that Harry heeds my warning and comes to his senses where his love life is concerned. There are hundreds of suitable and extremely willing partners for our Harry to choose from -  he need only look.**

 

 _Betty Braithwaite - The Evening Prophet - July 30th_ _2004_

 

_..._

 

"Darling of the Wizarding World!" Harry spat with disgust as he walked alongside Draco through the centre square of Godric's Hollow. "Last time they wrote about me it was about my 'declining mental health' and 'eccentric solitary behaviour.' They really ought to make up their mind."

Draco smirked. "You know they just invent rubbish about you to sell papers Harry."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, unfortunately I do."

Draco slipped his hand into Harry's and gave it a squeeze, ignoring the offended glare being directed his way from a passing witch.

The article was only printed yesterday and already Harry was feeling the effects of it, luckily most of Godric's Hollow couldn't give a rat's about his private life and left them alone. Harry wondered if it was because the townspeople felt as though Harry belonged in Godric's Hollow as much as he himself did and didn't wish to do anything to discourage his tenancy.

"Forget about the article," Draco said, interrupting Harry's brooding, "it's your birthday - perhaps to be known as Harry Potter Day in the future."

Harry snorted and shot him a look. "Please don't ever say those words together again."

Draco laughed and kept ahold of his hand as they approached the Apparation Point and then stopped. They faced each other and, with a deep breath, Harry Apparated them to The Burrow.

The two slowly strolled up the quiet dirt track towards Ron's childhood home. Harry was grateful for Draco's silent support by his side; he knew the blond was giving him a moment to mentally prepare himself for the day ahead. While Harry was looking forward to his birthday party at the Weasley's, a part of him was also dreading it. It was to be his  _last_  birthday and he knew it had the possibility of turning messy and emotional now that everyone knew the truth.

He shot a sideways glance at Draco, who was facing forward, strands of pale blond hair falling around his eyes from the light breeze. He smiled to himself; not for the first time thankful that he had said 'yes' to Draco six months ago. While Draco inhabited Harry's cottage practically every night, he hadn't actually made the move permanent, despite what certain articles reported.

Their relationship had only been growing stronger and stronger since that day, a closeness forming that Harry could admit with conviction that he'd never had before. If he hadn't been certain before, he was now positive that he was deeply and irrevocably in love with Draco. As he'd suspected, Draco was the perfect partner and lover for him. It was just as Luna had said to him: Harry needed to find the 'yin to his yang' - someone to balance him. Draco was meticulous and level-headed where Harry was impetuous and outwardly exuberant, Draco had a habit of hiding his emotions whilst Harry always wore his heart on his sleeve, and yet together, it seemed to somehow create near-perfect symbiosis.

Harry shot another surreptitious glance at Draco. He hadn't yet said that he loved Harry - and maybe he never would, considering the position he was in - but Harry hadn't voiced the sentiment aloud either. At least Draco had Harry's hastily written New Year's resolution as evidence to the fact if he ever wondered. Harry had found the bit of blue paper one day by accident in Draco's office, and the discovery had thrilled him as well as triggering a feeling of wretched culpability. The act of keeping Harry's resolution clearly showed that the blond had a sentimental side, which somehow made the whole situation that much more heartbreaking.

They never spoke about what was going to happen next May, and perhaps it wasn't healthy or even the right thing to do, but Harry was grateful for their little bubble of delusion anyway.

His fondness for Draco suddenly filled him up and spilled over into a euphoric smile as they walked together in the warm sunshine, chasing away any lingering apprehension for the day ahead.

"Ready?"

Harry blinked and realised that they had arrived at the bright round door to The Burrow without his noticing. "Yeah," he replied distractedly before raising a hand to knock on the sun-warmed wood.

The door instantly swung open and Harry suddenly found his arms full of ginger-haired excitement.

"Hey Ginny," Harry laughed, hugging her in return.

"Happy birthday!" Ginny cried, a grin splitting her face as she pulled back to look him in the eye. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Harry responded sincerely, smiling at her.

Ginny's gaze turned sly as she shifted brown eyes to Draco. "I bet you are. Hullo Malfoy, how are you?"

"I'm well," Draco replied with customary reserve.

Harry had quickly become accustomed to the fact that the Slytherin inadvertently used an altered tone of voice and cut to his accent depending on whom he was speaking with. It pleased Harry to no end that Draco's tone with him was noticeably warmer and more at ease to that of even his closest housemates.

Ginny smirked at him then hooked her arm through Harry's before leading them inside. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!" she said, sounding a little hyperactive as they walked through the house, heading for the rear garden.

Harry glanced over his shoulder as he was dragged along to ensure Draco was following; one blond brow quirked in amusement. "That's because you've been on tour for ages," Harry replied as he faced forwards once more, part of him slightly envious of Ginny's exciting quidditch career.

She rolled her eyes. "I know, it's been awful, how am I ever supposed to meet someone?" she lamented dramatically.

Harry snorted. "You have no intention of settling down any time soon and you know it."

Ginny grinned as they walked through the rear door, which was propped open with a bit of wood, and back out into the blindingly bright summer's day. "I think you may be right Harry," she admitted with a wink. "It's hard not to want it when I see how happy you are with Malfoy though," she added in a conspiratorial whisper. She released Harry's arm and strode away before he could think of a response.

Draco stepped up to Harry's side and the two stood appreciating the lively scene uninterrupted. The garden was alive with brightly coloured flowers, long blades of meadow grass swaying in the breeze, fluttering butterflies, swooping birds, and the chatter of people as they strung up balloons and carried platters of food to the long picnic table set out in the middle of it all. All of Harry's closest friends and his adopted Weasley family were there; dressed in bright summer clothing and chatting merrily.

The sight of it caused Harry to smile. This was what he wanted for his final birthday; a day of jolly celebration and not one of mourning.

"Harry!"

Hermione's excited cry broke the spell and instantly everyone swarmed over to welcome Harry - and by extension Draco - into the garden, and began to eagerly ply them with nibbles and drinks.

They stood and chatted in clusters until lunch was ready, and then the fairly sizable group seated themselves around the long wooden table covered in a bright yellow sheet and piled high with all of Harry's favourite foods. Above the table were strung thin ropes of white fairy lights to be utilised when the sun had gone down.

Harry sat in the centre of one of the long benches with Draco next to him, and found that he couldn't seem to wipe the grin from his face; taking it all in and listening to the varied conversations ebbing and flowing all around him.

"Still enjoying Godric's Hollow?" Ginny asked Harry as she passed round the spring onion mash. "I love your dear little cottage; I must come for another visit soon."

"It's great," Harry enthused, one hand wrapped around a glass of Molly's delicious Elderflower cordial. "I love it. I can see now why my parents wanted to live there."

"I think they'd be very pleased Harry," Arthur said with a smile, "living in the place where they once envisioned you growing up."

Harry nodded, he'd thought of it like that as well when he'd been moving his things into the cottage. He'd half-pictured himself running around the streets as a child and irritating the local shopkeepers. So many times throughout his life he'd tried to imagine what it would've been like if his parents had never died, but actually living in a place where it was nearly tangible was distinctly different; like adding colour to a previously black and white canvas.

"And how are  _you_  enjoying it Draco?" Pansy asked with an arched brow from the end of the table. "You seem to have neglected to inform us that you and Potter have officially shacked up."

"Don't believe everything you read in the Prophet Pansy dear," Draco drawled without looking up.

Harry knew Pansy was still touchy about their relationship. When they'd informed her that they were officially together, Pansy had accused Harry of being 'fucking self-centred' and Draco of being 'a masochist.' She had eventually calmed down but it was obvious that Pansy still didn't approve and would take whatever opportunity she could to nettle them. Harry knew it came from a deep-seated fondness and protectiveness for Draco, so he tried to not get  _too_  stroppy over her behaviour and unsolicited opinions. He left that up to his more than capable lover.

"I don't know Draco," Blaise goaded with a smirk, "when was the last time you saw the inside of your flat?"

"Yesterday," Draco replied, unperturbed. "Granger, would you be so kind as to pass the butter?"

Harry exhaled in relief as Draco deftly deflected the attention away from the bloody Prophet article.

Mrs. Weasley then asked Harry if he was getting enough to eat in his new home and if he needed anything.

"Mum, he's not a child," Ron said with a roll of his eyes when she continued to prod Harry about how many towels he had and what sort of condition they were in.

Harry hid a grin as he took a sip of his drink, meeting Ron's amused expression over the rim of his glass. He really didn't mind Mrs. Weasley's mollycoddling; there was something to be said for rare moments of normalcy when your life was drawing to an end.

Once everyone had had their fill, Mrs. Weasley brought out a decadent chocolate cake covered in flickering candles and set it in front of Harry with a proud maternal flourish.

Harry gazed down at the lovely cake and blinked in surprise. Every year Mrs. Weasley baked him a birthday cake - always chocolate (his favourite) and always with the Gryffindor house crest on it - but this year she had created the entire Hogwarts emblem. Harry instantly knew it was a nod to his new relationship with Draco. She wasn't singling out any one house for the exclusion of another, just as the group gathered there that day were not all from one house or one background but mixed heritages of purebloods and Muggle-borns or Gryffindors and Slytherins.

He glanced up at Mrs. Weasley with a grateful smile but quickly looked away again after noticing the telltale gleam of tears in her eyes.

Harry took a deep breath and quickly blew out the candles without making a wish. He had everything he could wish for, never more obvious to him than in that moment with his friends, family, and now Draco, next to him, and the only thing he  _did_  desire, a simple birthday wish could never grant him.

The cake was soon sliced and passed round to everyone at the table. Harry was given the largest piece and he unabashedly added two large scoops of vanilla ice cream to the bowl.

"Don't eat too much," George warned him with a grin, "we have a very important, high-stakes rematch to play."

Harry glanced up, mouth full. He'd almost forgotten that the last time he and Draco had been there they'd all played a game of quidditch together - a game during which he had been driven to distraction to the point of losing the game for his team. Distracted because that had also been the day he first realised his developing feelings for Draco.

Harry swallowed, a mischievous smile lighting his face as he nodded in eager acceptance. Instead of taking the competitive edge off, it seemed his new relationship with Draco only intensified it. A quick glance in Draco's direction confirmed that the blond was feeling the same; there was a definite challenge to those smirking grey eyes.

Harry wondered what was wrong with him that he found that obstinately defiant expression on his lover so hot. He squirmed in his seat as he attempted to finish his cake without incident, knowing that he could have his wicked way with Draco later.

Once everyone was suitably full of Molly's delicious baking, the group slowly made their way to the empty meadow next to the towering Weasley home. Some of them spread out patchwork quilts over the grass and settled down to watch the game above their heads, drinks in hand.

Harry accepted an old broom from George as he stood waiting. He'd neglected to bring his own broom from home but he didn't mind, it probably made the game a little more evenly matched if he didn't have his Firebolt.

Draco came to stand next to him, another second-hand Weasley broom in hand. "I hope you don't mind losing on your birthday," he said.

Harry laughed and turned to look at him. "You don't have a hope of winning Malfoy," he scoffed.

Draco arched a brow. "I do believe you lost quite spectacularly last time Potter," he reminded him loftily.

Harry turned to face front again, crossing his hands over the top of his broom handle and resting his chin atop them with a grin. "Yes but last time I was distracted by the dawning realisation of an unrequited love."

"What are you on about?" Draco asked with wry amusement.

Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Remember I said it was when you were here at The Burrow that I first realised that I loved you," he repeated offhandedly.

Draco promptly looked away. "Oh, that's right," was all he said in a detached sort of tone.

Harry straightened up with a frown; he hadn't said it to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he'd said it as casually as he could. "Hey-"

"Harry!"

Harry looked up to see George beckoning to him.

"Come on! We need to strategize!"

Harry nodded then quickly turned back to Draco. "You okay?"

"Of course." Draco smiled coolly then strode off towards his team without another word.

Harry's frown only deepened. He couldn't understand what Draco's problem was, the blond already knew that he loved him, he'd admitted as much six months ago - and Draco even had the bloody proof in writing.

With a sigh, Harry turned and made his way over to his own waiting team, knowing that he would have to wrest it out of his taciturn lover later.

Harry's team was made up of George, Ron and Blaise, while the other team was made up of Draco, Ginny, Charlie and Neville. George had intentionally split up Blaise and Neville as they were both pants at quidditch but had wanted to join in the fun anyway.

George communicated his game plan to them in hushed tones as though the other team might attempt to overhear. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at how serious he took quidditch, it was the only time he could be called upon to be forthright.

Once George had finished, he straightened and looked over to the other team with a grin. "Oi! Let's go!"

Harry instinctively looked for Draco as he was preparing to mount his broom and couldn't see him anywhere.

With a frown he lowered his broom to his side. "Hey Neville!" he called over to their nearest player. "Where's Draco?"

Neville glanced around and shrugged. "Dunno Harry, he  _was_  here…"

"He gave me his broom and told me to take his place, and then I saw him go inside."

Harry turned to Luna who was standing behind him and holding a broom as though it were about to bite her. "Did he say anything else?"

Luna shook her head and opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted by George.

"Harry! Are we playing or what?" he called out, already in the air with the rest of his team.

"Start without me!" he shouted back. He turned away from George's appalled expression and walked over to Luna.

"Was he alright?" he asked her, concern written all over his face.

"He pretended to be," she replied astutely.

Harry sighed and glanced over at the Weasley home, wondering where Draco could've gone and why. "I don't suppose you read his mind?" he asked her with a weak smile.

Luna smiled back, dangly sun-shaped earrings swinging wildly as she shook her head in the negative.

"Guess I'll have to drag it out of the stubborn git myself then," Harry sighed. "Thanks Luna."

Harry left his broom on the grass and tried to plaster on a carefree expression as he jogged past the rest of the party lounging on the blankets and headed for the cool interior of the house.

The first floor was empty so Harry quietly made his way up the uneven staircase to the next floor, and then the next. He finally came across Draco in Ron's old room, sitting on the floor with his back up against the bedframe and head buried in drawn up knees.

Harry froze when he comprehended the sight before him: Draco was  _crying_ , his shoulders shaking with the force of it.

Harry swiftly stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Draco's shoulders promptly stopped their shuddering but he didn't raise his head.

The silence hung heavy in the air between them as the seconds ticked by. Harry leaned back against the door and bit his lip, unsure how to proceed with this uncharted relationship territory. He swallowed and decided to just go with gut instinct - like always - and walked over to kneel in front of him.

"Draco?" He placed a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder. "What's going on?"

Draco swallowed and kept his forehead firmly pressed into his forearms, eyes closed.

"Please talk to me," Harry entreated quietly. He couldn't stand seeing him this way; Draco'd never lost his composure like this in front of him before and it pulled at something uncomfortable within him.

Draco exhaled shakily, still refusing to lift his head from where it was buried in his arms. "I don't want you to die…" he finally said raggedly.

Harry sucked in a breath; the pain in Draco's voice matching the amount of raw guilt washing over him from words he very much did not want to hear. "We have to stop seeing each other-"

That had Draco jerking his head up in response. " _No_ ," he replied vehemently.

Harry swallowed as he took in the glaring red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks on pale cheeks. " _Yes_ ," he said resolutely, "this… this isn't worth it. I told you that we had to stop if it ever became too much for you, and it clearly is."

Draco's glare only intensified. "And what do you think is going to happen Harry? I stop seeing you and then suddenly I don't fucking care about you anymore? It doesn't work like that."

Harry felt indignant anger flare within him. "Then why did you agree to this?" he demanded.

"I should think that would be obvious," Draco replied scornfully, shifting his gaze to glower at the floor in front of him.

"Well it's not," Harry snapped. He waited for a response and when there wasn't one forthcoming, he stood and walked to the door. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the tight-lipped Slytherin anymore, especially on what was supposed to be something of a special day for him. He suddenly felt as though Draco was blaming him for something he had willingly agreed to. No matter how poor a decision it was, it had still been Draco's to make.

"Wait."

Harry stopped, one hand on the knob, and glanced back over his shoulder.

Draco's bitter glare had been replaced by a look that was unmistakably repentant. "I'm sorry. Don't go," he murmured.

Harry released the door handle and slowly turned back to face him; expression apprehensive as he crossed his arms over his chest, hugging himself against the uncertainty pervading the air.

Draco pushed himself to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed, then indicated the space next to him.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry uncrossed his arms and walked over to sit beside him, hands twisting together in his lap, unsure of what he really wanted to have happen now.

"I'm sorry I'm so terrible at this," Draco admitted uncomfortably. "I haven't had much practice with relationships. None at all really."

Harry felt his irritation fade away and his hands quit their fidgeting. "Don't worry about it, there's no handbook for what we're doing, emotions are bound to get the better of us sometimes. I mean, it is  _us_  after all."

Draco smiled a little at that and then sighed, smile fading as quickly as it had come on.

Harry's insides twisted; knowing what he wanted to ask, what he  _needed_  to ask, to get Draco to talk to him about what was going on inside that blond head of his. "Was it… was it because I said that I loved you?" he managed to force out, cheeks heating with discomfiture.

There was a pregnant pause which Harry feared would never be filled and then Draco began to speak.

"Yes and no," he admitted, his tone a touch uncertain but honest. "You saying it only brought to the forefront everything I've been trying to hide from these past few months."

"Hide from?"

Draco nodded. "My… regard for you and everything that comes with you. Before you came back I rarely joined in with group outings and I was certainly not invited to the Weasley's as though I was a member of their extended family." He paused and shook his head, looking somewhat perplexed. "It never bothered me before, it wasn't as though I felt as though I was missing out or that my life wasn't fulfilling because I had my work, and my mother, and Rose… It seemed like enough.

But now my life is  _actually_  full; full of people and excursions and… and love. I can actually appreciate the difference and I don't want to lose that - any of it." He stopped and looked up. "But most importantly, I don't want to lose  _you_  - and there's nothing I can fucking do about it!" Draco's tone turned frustrated and helpless, fingers tightening on the edge of the mattress until his knuckles turned white. "I love you Harry, and I can't… I can't picture my life without you now."

Harry emitted an involuntary choked sound before he could stop himself which was part sob and part laugh. He shook his head before looking at Draco with an unsteady smile. "I told myself that I didn't need to hear you say that but I was wrong."

Draco couldn't help but return Harry's overcome smile with a shaky one of his own. He reached out and pulled Harry to him; his dark head of windblown hair coming to rest against Draco's shoulder. "I'm sorry I ruined your birthday," he finally said, attempting to sound flippant but the slight tremor in his voice gave him away.

Harry snorted. "You haven't ruined it, you just told me that you loved me, what more could I ask for?"

Draco rolled his eyes but his tone was fond as he said, "sentimental twit."

Harry straightened to look him in the eye. "Now what?"

Draco took deep steadying breath and released it. "Now we play quidditch Potter, and I thoroughly thrash you."

"Right." Harry grinned, knowing they were merely postponing the rest of their discussion, but for once, that was okay. For now it was back to the birthday festivities.

The two stood and Harry tugged Draco in for a spontaneous kiss.

There was a tentative knock at the door before it opened a little and Ron stuck his head in. He immediately grimaced. "I hope you're not shagging in here," he said in dismay.

Draco smirked as he released his hold on Harry. "Might want to give those sheets a wash Weasley," he drawled as he strode past a horrified Ron.

Harry laughed and couldn't seem to stop as Ron's face paled and his horrified gaze flew to his childhood bed.

"Please tell me he's joking," Ron said, turning to Harry with imploring eyes.

Harry grinned and slung one arm around Ron's shoulders as he led him from the room and followed Draco back down the stairs. "How about we play some quidditch?" he said evasively.

Ron groaned aloud, as though Harry's avoidance had confirmed his worst nightmare.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent playing a few rounds of quidditch, ending in the trouncing of Draco's team - three to one - and then they all gathered around the table once more, some on blankets and some lying on the long pew-like benches. The fairy lights twinkled overhead in the indigo blue sky as they munched on leftover food and drank hot apple cider.

Harry was lying on the bench, his head pillowed on Draco's lap, staring up at the sky with a contented smile on his face as people talked all around him. He'd had one of the best birthdays of recent memory and a part of him didn't want it to end. He had requested that no one buy him gifts as it would just be a waste of money when he wouldn't be around to enjoy them for long. So instead of buying him 'things' everyone had brought a favourite dish of his, something that Harry could enjoy to the fullest and not have to feel any guilt over.

Draco's hand was idly combing through Harry's thick hair as he talked to Blaise about one of his Auror cases. Then something Blaise said made Harry's ears prick up and pay attention.

"You know, this Prophet article might kick your stalker back into action again Draco."

"Hmm…" Draco replied noncommittedly, still combing his fingers soothingly through Harry's hair.

"They probably won't be too happy to hear that you're living with Harry now, even if it's not true," Blaise cautioned.

"I don't suppose you've had any leads yet?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at Blaise.

"No, nothing."

"I'm sure they've given up," Draco said dismissively.

"But-" Harry started.

Draco placed a finger over his lips to shush him. "We are  _not_  talking about this bloody stalker on your birthday Harry."

Harry narrowed his eyes then licked a stripe up Draco's finger in retaliation.

Unfortunately it had quite the opposite effect as Draco's pupils dilated with sudden arousal.

Harry raised his brow with a knowing smirk. "I guess I should be heading off…" he said aloud, sitting up with a stretch.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already made their excuses and retired for the night, but everyone else was still there and turned to Harry expectantly, a sudden sadness in their eyes that Harry could see they were struggling to hide.

Harry cleared his throat and looked around at them, suddenly reluctant to leave. "I'm not really one for speeches but… I just wanted to say thank you for today. This has been one of the best birthdays I've ever had - probably  _the_  best actually." He glanced at Draco with a self-conscious smile before continuing. "And I know it's probably been difficult but… I just wanted you all to know how much I really appreciated the effort to make this day feel like any other birthday. That's all I could've asked for." He exhaled and stood up on slightly shaky legs. "And now I think I'll go before I make a complete fool of myself."

Hermione stood and threw her arms around Harry, hugging him tightly. She pulled back with tears in her eyes, yet a smile on her face. "Happy birthday Harry," she whispered.

The others said their goodbyes, either giving him a quick hug or a hearty handshake, before Draco finally stepped up and gently took his hand.

"Ready?" he asked, eyes searching Harry's face intently.

Harry nodded with a smile, relieved that he had made it through the day without falling apart. "Yeah, let's go."

With one last wave, Harry and Draco walked side by side back up the dirt track towards the Apparation Point, the moon lighting their way in the dark.

"Mind if we go to my flat tonight?" Draco asked as they walked.

Harry glanced at him in surprise but was quick to agree. "Sure."

Draco Apparated them away from Ottery St. Catchpole with a powerful crack that reverberated through the quiet night.

Harry followed Draco into the shop and up the hidden staircase to his flat. He hadn't spent the night there once since his move to Godric's Hollow and he was still ruminating over this fact when he suddenly realised that Draco was leading him down the hall to his bedroom - his sacred bedroom that Harry had never seen, never mind entered.

"Er, are you sure?" Harry asked, pulling on Draco's arm and halting his progress.

Draco turned to him, a bemused smile on his face. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you noticed I never took you in here," he said abashedly.

Harry smiled and shrugged. "I just assumed it was full of bizarre torture devices and kinky-Slytherin shite."

Draco laughed and pulled Harry along with him without another word. He pushed open his bedroom door and Harry followed him inside, beyond curious as he looked around.

The room was sparsely furnished with a simple bed covered in soft white linen, one bedside table and a white painted wardrobe. It was just an ordinary bedroom, if not a little on the empty side.

Harry turned to Draco. "This is it? This is the Malfoy secret lair?"

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "It wasn't a secret, it was merely… personal. I've just never brought anyone in here - even before you."

Harry's expression lost its teasing appearance. "Really? Why?"

Draco shrugged, expression faintly uneasy. "I've never felt the urge to invite someone into my bedroom to stay the night before; I've never had that sort of relationship. I think it was my way of distancing myself to keep the few men that I invited back to my place from becoming anything more than a brief interlude, because that's all I wanted at the time."

"And why now? Why me?" Harry asked, forehead creased with concern; not wanting to be the special someone that Draco finally took this step with since he would only be with him for the next nine months.

Draco closed the door behind him, a soft smile on his face, looking as though he knew what was going through Harry's head. "Perhaps because I love you and I want you to spend the night in my bed with me. And perhaps I need to take this step with you in order to open myself up to doing it again in the future without fear of the unknown."

Harry swallowed the flicker of jealousy with difficulty. "I'm glad," he said, pushing past the resentment as he reminded himself that no matter who came after him, he would always be the first.

Draco stalked towards him with purpose then and everything else melted into the background as Harry welcomed him with open arms and eager lips.

. . . .

As they lay in a tangled mess of sweat-dampened limbs and their breathing slowly returned to normal, Harry took the opportunity to look at Draco's face next to him on the pillow, examining the blond's face in detail while his eyes were closed: the flawless skin that never seemed to tan or freckle, the high cheekbones and pointed chin, the pale lashes lying against fair skin, and the parted lips that seemed to be the most expressive part of him. He was undeniably different to the Malfoy he had been at Hogwarts but Harry wondered if perhaps that was due to his new perspective on whom the man before him was now. He was certainly no longer the haughty, spoiled wizard he once was, he was mature and self-controlled - a little  _too_  self-controlled - but Harry had grown to consider even  _that_  a part of Draco's indefinable charm.

Harry smiled fondly at Draco's resting countenance. He looked at peace now, sated, and he was reluctant to break the moment to dredge up their earlier conversation - but he knew he must before either of them fell asleep.

"Draco?" he whispered.

Draco's grey eyes opened a crack and slowly focussed on him. "Yes Potter?" he replied languidly.

Harry's smile widened at his sleepy tone. "Sorry to disturb but I won't be able to sleep until we finish our conversation."

Draco's eyes opened fully and he sighed as he stretched indolently, resigned to the fact that Harry was speaking the truth when he said he wouldn't be able to sleep unless they finished their discussion from earlier. "Alright, I'm awake Potter."

Harry turned over onto his stomach and rested his chin on folded arms, head tilted so that he could still observe Draco. "So… I'm just going to say this without too much fuss: I love you and you love me, and you don't want us to stop seeing each other simply because what we've started has become a lot more difficult - have I got that right?"

Draco turned onto his side, head propped on one hand as he surveyed Harry with amused eyes. "That about sums it up yes."

Harry smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're willing to go through all this just to be with me," he muttered, cheeks heating at expressing such sentimentality.

"Wouldn't  _you_?" Draco countered.

Harry sighed. "I… I don't know. I don't know that I would have agreed to this in the first place, I tend to get easily attached and then hurt, and I think losing you would hurt more than anything I've ever faced - including losing Sirius."

Draco shuffled over and prodded Harry onto his back then placed his head on his shoulder as Harry's arms automatically came up to wrap around him. "I've never lost anyone I've loved before," Draco confessed, breath puffing warmly across Harry's bare skin. "When my father passed away I didn't really feel much of anything; he was merely someone I once looked up to who transformed into someone I absolutely loathed. I only felt a sad sort of pity for him for making decisions that ultimately cost him his life and his family. I don't know what it's like to lose someone I have  _actual feelings_  for."

Harry glanced down at him unhappily and looked as though he were about to protest Draco's decision to keep this going again.

 _"But_ ," Draco continued sharply, "I've also never experienced being in love before - and this is worth every second of pain that comes later. No relationship is a guarantee Harry, and no one person is assured to live a long healthy life either. Just because we know the exact date that yours is going to end doesn't circumvent the possibility that maybe  _I_  will go first, or perhaps that one of us would have fallen sick or been fatally wounded…"

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again, a strange sort of release flooding his body and uncoiling the knots that had taken up residence in his stomach ever since witnessing Draco's emotional breakdown at The Burrow earlier.

"I've never thought of it like that before," he marveled.

"It was something my mother said actually," Draco confessed.

Harry's eyes widened. "You talk to your mother about us? I mean, I was aware that she knew the truth about me but… Does she hate me?"

Draco smiled. "No she doesn't hate you, she's rather grateful to you for what you've done for me. She thinks you're melting my frozen heart," he added with a roll of his eyes.

Harry couldn't help but laugh and Draco chuckled, finding that Harry's diminished tension was helping to ease his own.

"I know it's going to be difficult," Harry said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "but I promise I won't ask again if you want to end this. We'll simply live in denial until May."

Draco smiled and Harry detected a hint of despair in his eyes but chose to ignore it, he knew there would be inevitable moments of sorrow and raging tempers throughout the next nine months despite the fact that they had both agreed to continue the madness that was their relationship. All he could do was try to reassure his lover and be there for him until the end.

"Can we sleep now?" Draco asked, breaking through his musing.

Harry glanced down and Draco's eyes were already closed. Harry smiled and tugged the blanket up over them both.

Draco's breathing evened out almost immediately, leaving Harry wide awake and alone with various ruminations swirling madly round his head.

Something Draco had said earlier was troubling him. Draco mentioned that he wanted to be open to the potential for future love and future relationships without fear of the unknown.

The only thing that concerned Harry was the distinct possibility that Draco would return to his bachelor ways once he was gone; withdraw back into himself, and then never attempt to find someone else to share his life with. He could see it now and he didn't know what to do about it. He could see Draco retreating, attempting to deal with Harry's death, and then never put himself out there again. He would end up alone. Forever.

Harry's arms tightened around the sleeping Slytherin.

_But what could he possibly do about it?_

The idea came to him a few hours later.

Harry's eyes widened and his pulse quickened as a plan took form: if he could find someone for Draco to date after he was gone, then Draco wouldn't have to do it himself, and Harry could even search for someone who would be good for Draco; who would be sensitive to his situation.

He wouldn't even have to tell Draco about it, the blond would most likely reject the idea as being tasteless anyway. Harry could simply find someone perfect, tell them the situation and then, if they accept, write it all down in a letter for Draco once he was gone.

Harry settled back with a sigh, finally feeling the inevitable fatigue wash over him. It had been a long and emotional day, but brilliant nonetheless.

"Happy birthday Harry," he whispered to himself with a little smile. He was now twenty-five, never to be twenty-six, but somehow it wasn't depressing. He'd had an exciting and wonderful life thus far, probably more excitement than most people experienced in a normal, unrestricted lifespan. Plus he'd found the love of his life, his soulmate, if there was such a thing. He couldn't really ask for more than that.

Harry inhaled, Draco's orange-scented shampoo filling his nostrils, then closed his eyes with a final sigh of contentment. He had a plan to make sure Draco was taken care of after he was gone and, if nothing else, that was his final wish for this life; to ensure Draco's ongoing happiness when he wasn't around to fulfil that role anymore.


	14. You'll Make it Now

_August 2004: Eight months left…_

 

Harry sat perched on the tall wobbly bar stool and took yet another miniscule sip of his drink. He was certain the barkeep secretly despised him for taking up space whilst ordering the minimal amount to remain inside the Shaftesbury Pub - for the third night in a row.

Said barkeep suddenly glanced his way and smirked a little before taking another order.

Or perhaps it was all in his head; he tended to get paranoid while drinking.

With a weary sigh, Harry looked around the quaint establishment, green eyes sweeping into every nook and cranny; futilely seeking out the only man he'd found remotely interesting in the past couple of years - aside from Draco of course. But alas, Tim from Shaftesbury was nowhere to be seen. Again.

Harry turned back around to face front, forearms resting on the bar and shoulders hunched forward. It was a fairly mental plan, trying to find Tim after all this time, even if it was a small town. The man had probably moved away or was married or any number of things that took him out of the equation, but he had seemed kind and genuine from what Harry remembered; two things that Draco would need when he was gone. Harry didn't know if Draco would be willing to seriously date a Muggle but Draco didn't have to  _marry_  him; Tim could just be a welcome distraction until Draco was ready to jump back into the dating world again on his own.

Harry found that he had fewer and fewer flashes of jealousy over the thought of someone else with Draco now that his time was drawing to an end. More than anything, he simply wished to peacefully pass away content in the knowledge that Draco wouldn't be alone and miserable forever.

"Two pints please, Bill."

Harry glanced up at the voice to his right and blinked; the axiom that the third time really is the charm floated through his head as he laid eyes on the elusive Tim.

"Tim," he said before he could stop himself. He immediately flushed in embarrassment as Tim turned to him with a puzzled frown. "Sorry," Harry quickly added before Tim could ask him just who the hell he was. "I have a thing for names and we've met. Once."

Tim's expression cleared as he smiled a little. "Ah yes, I think I remember you: dark-haired and cute - and never bothered to get my number."

Harry would have felt mortified if not for the teasing sparkle in Tim's eyes. "Uh yeah, sorry about that. Are you here with friends?" he asked, looking round, trying to subtly suss out if Tim was here on a date or not.

Tim paid for his drinks before turning to point to a table in the corner, the same table he was seated at last time, if Harry's memory served. A woman who looked to be in her late twenties sat there on her own. "Yeah, just here with my sister. You should come say hello."

"Alright," Harry surprised himself by saying instantly.

Tim looked surprised as well, but pleased. "Great."

Harry grabbed his drink and followed Tim to the table in the corner. The woman looked up and Harry noted that she shared the same friendly smile as her brother.

"Hey Piper, this is…" Tim paused and turned to Harry in amusement. "Actually, I can't recall your name. Unlike you, I do  _not_  have a talent for retaining names."

"Harry," Harry chuckled while holding out his hand to her.

Tim grinned. "Piper, this is an old friend of mine, Harry; we go way back obviously. Harry this is my lovely sister Phillipa."

"Pleased to meet you Harry, and please call me Piper," she said with a smile as she shook Harry's hand. "How do you know my ill-mannered brother?"

Tim pulled out a chair, indicating for Harry to sit before taking his own seat and sliding one of the pints across the round wooden table towards his sister.

"We met here, oddly enough," Harry replied with a grin. "It was my first visit to Shaftesbury and he was kind enough to make me feel welcome in a pub full of locals."

"How kind of him." She raised a teasing brow at her brother over the rim of her glass before taking a sip.

Harry took a quick gulp of his own drink for something to do, wishing now that he'd had the chance to tell Tim the truth before he'd been dragged over here. Hopefully no further family members would show up and be introduced to him as though he were the new boyfriend.

"So Harry, what brings you back to Shaftesbury?" Tim asked, eyes flitting to where Harry had been sitting at the bar. "Alone this time?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I uh… was looking for you actually," he said, boldly deciding to go with the truth.

Tim blinked in surprise.

"You know, I think I just spotted Tilda," Piper interjected, rising out of her seat with her pint in one hand. "I might just go say hello for a moment."

Tim rolled his eyes and she smirked at him before walking off towards a small group of girls near the door.

"Sorry," Harry apologised, leaning towards him in order to speak quietly and still be heard. "I didn't mean to monopolise your night."

"It's fine Harry. You're much more interesting than my sister," he said, causing Harry to laugh. "Did you  _really_  come back here to find me though?" Tim continued after a moment, the barest hint of wariness lurking in his eyes.

"I'm not mental or anything," Harry blurted, "I actually have a very valid reason for my admittedly odd behaviour."

Tim smirked and took a sip of his drink. "I'm sure you do, Harry…?"

"Potter."

"Do go on Mr. Potter," he said, the wariness now replaced by mirth.

Harry smiled and sat back in his chair, fingers idly toying with his soggy beermat as he thought about how best to phrase his proposal. "So… the reason I didn't ask you for your mobile number when last we met is because I'm er, sick."

Tim's smile faded as he sat up in concern. "Sick?" he repeated.

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I was given only a few years to live, which will probably be up some time next year."

Tim placed a hand over Harry's and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry to hear that Harry."

He really did sound like he meant it and Harry smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, I'm used to it now. Well, as used to it as you can become I imagine."

"Have things… changed then?" Tim asked uncertainly.

Harry shook his head. "Not with that no," he said. "I vowed that I wouldn't date anyone because my time was limited, I didn't want anyone to have to go through this with me. That's why I didn't pursue you." Harry paused then smiled a little. "You should know that I would have been very interested otherwise."

Tim grinned. "Thank you, my ego is suitably restored."

Harry laughed and then took a large draught from his pint, knowing that he needed to get to the awkward part of the conversation. For Draco's sake.

"Unfortunately, I kind of fell into a pseudo-relationship that wasn't  _meant_  to be a relationship and which has now turned into one. I know that must sound strange but… it just started out as, er…"

"Sex?" Tim supplied helpfully.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, exactly, but then before we realised it was even happening, it turned into something more."

"That's kind of romantic," Tim reflected quietly, "but I'm sorry that it's obviously causing you some distress. I can't even imagine what the other bloke must be feeling."

Harry swallowed. "Yeah, that's kind of why I'm here," he said tentatively.

"Oh?"

Harry sighed and took a moment to pluck up his courage. "I want to leave this life safe in the knowledge that the man I'm in love with isn't left alone and unhappy forever."

Tim frowned, bewildered, and then the penny dropped as his expression cleared and his mouth opened in an 'oh' of sudden clarity. "You want  _me_  to take your place?"

Harry licked his lips and nodded. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It's not that I need you to fall in love with him - or he with you - I just want you to open his eyes to the possibility of moving on and finding someone else; someone who  _isn't_  going to hurt him with their selfish behaviour."

"Aren't you being a little hard on yourself?" Tim asked, brow knitting. "I assume he knew you were…?"

"Dying? Yeah, he knew, but I should never have put him in that position," Harry replied severely. "It's probably something I'll never forgive myself for. He was so busy with his career that he never made time for a serious relationship before, and then I come along and change all that…"

"Oh I see," Tim replied sympathetically. "That's why you're concerned that he won't try to meet someone new; he won't want to try again."

Harry nodded and downed the rest of his drink.

Tim sat back in his chair and rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "I must say, this is a very odd request."

Harry couldn't help but smile a little. "Believe me, I understand. I would be dying of embarrassment right now if I wasn't, well, dying of other things."

Tim laughed loudly then quickly covered his mouth, horrified. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh at that."

Harry snorted with laughter and waved one hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous, I don't want people to walk on eggshells around me. It's fine."

Tim smiled, relieved, then returned to looking pensive. "So… this bloke of yours, what does he look like?"

Harry's smile brightened as he leaned in. "He's completely gorgeous, and I'm not just saying that, he really is. He… he can be a hard one to get close to but once you do, he's the most thoughtful and considerate man I've ever known. He's always interested in what I have to say and seems to know how I'm feeling - even before  _I_  do." Harry swallowed, heart twisting painfully. "He's blond, slightly taller than me, pale skin, the most striking grey eyes you've ever seen, and… and he's witty, intelligent, sarcastic, and has an air of sophistication that some may find arrogant but I rather enjoy…"

Harry trailed off and suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He looked down at his empty glass and desperately wished that he still had something in it.

"Can I get you another Harry?"

Harry looked up at Tim's understanding expression and nodded quickly before he could do something completely humiliating.

Harry sunk his head into his heads once Tim had left and clenched fingers around strands of dark hair. He couldn't help but feel that this was suddenly a terrible idea; trying to sell Draco like he was some sort of prized Thoroughbred was sickening. Saying aloud all the things he treasured - and  _loved_  - about Draco in order to market him to another man was excruciating. Thinking of Draco with some faceless stranger was a lot easier than staring him in the face and suddenly comprehending what it was he was giving up, and what Tim could, in essence, be acquiring in return.

"Here you are, mate."

Harry clutched the heavy glass Tim set in front of him as though it were a lifeline and drank; his throat swallowing convulsively as he gulped it down.

Tim sat down in his abandoned chair. "He sounds lovely," he remarked when Harry finally set his glass down.

Harry looked up and forced a weak smile. "He is. He's perfect really. Don't ever tell him I said that though."

Tim cleared his throat and sat forward, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. "Look Harry, you're a nice chap, and this… what's his name?"

"Draco."

"Draco? He sounds too good to be true, but I believe you when you say he's perfect. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him how much you love him." Tim exhaled and held Harry's gaze. "This is a very strange situation, and I'm not sure what you saw in me that made you want to ask this of an almost complete stranger, but… how about this: I promise that I can look in on Draco for you, be a friend instead of a lover. I can push him to date others and keep his spirits up so that you don't have to worry about him being alone and unhappy, but then you also don't have to think about me replacing you as the love of his life."

"I don't-"

"Yes, you do," Tim interrupted succinctly, "because that's what I would be worried about were I in your shoes."

Harry shook his head with an incredulous smile. "See? This is what I saw in you when we met."

Tim flushed and looked away to sip from his own pint. "Oh stop it."

Harry laughed, feeling the sadness ebb away again. He suddenly felt all kinds of ridiculous. "I'm sorry I even asked you to do this, I must be losing my mind."

Tim turned back to him with a gentle smile. "Don't be silly Harry, I think it's quite noble of you; wanting the people you leave behind to be cared for after you're gone. Very noble."

This time Harry was the one to flush and avert his gaze.

Tim's sister chose that moment to return to the table. "Is it safe for me to join you now?" she asked, smirking at them.

"Yes, I was just leaving," Harry said with a smile, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. "It was nice meeting you Piper."

"Let me walk you out Harry," Tim said, standing. "I'll be right back Pipes."

Harry walked outside into the warm cloudy evening and turned to Tim expectantly. "You don't have to agree to anything," he said.

Tim smiled and reached out to pull Harry into a friendly hug. "I'm happy to help you out Harry. You can't have too many friends in life, and, if Draco is willing, I would like to make his acquaintance - on a strictly platonic level, mind you."

"Thank you," Harry replied as Tim stepped back. "I'm er, between mobiles right now so it's probably best if you give me  _your_  number."

"Does your Draco know about this?" Tim asked as he scrawled his mobile number on what looked like an old receipt from his jeans pocket. Tim glanced up when Harry paused uncertainly. "Ah I see," he commented knowingly. "I guess I can see why you wouldn't want to say anything."

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Yeah, he… I don't think he would be pleased that I was trying to set him up. I planned to just explain it in a letter for him."

Tim nodded and handed over the piece of paper. "I'll leave it to your good judgement then Harry Potter. I look forward to meeting him some day."

"Thanks." Harry smiled as he pocketed the paper and looked up. "And for what it's worth, if your friendship with Draco ever turned into something more, don't for a moment feel guilty about it."

Harry turned and quickly walked away before Tim could respond.

 

**. . . .**

 

Harry was so busy thinking about the Tim situation and his conflicted feelings as he walked into the cottage that he didn't even notice Draco sitting at his kitchen table with a cold cup of tea sitting untouched in front of him.

"Harry?"

Harry startled and looked up. "Oh hey, I didn't see you there." He frowned as he laid his coat over the chair back. "Wait, am I late for something?"

Draco stood and walked around to stand in front of him, eyes narrowing the closer he got. "Why is it that this is the third night in a row in which you've come home late in the evening smelling of stale beer without explanation?"

Harry frowned, feeling unexpectedly cornered. He didn't do well with feeling cornered -  _especially_  when he was tired and overwrought. He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't realise that I had to report my every move to you," he replied carefully. "And what exactly are you accusing me of?"

"What am I  _supposed_  to think when you smell like an old pub and unfamiliar cologne and don't tell me anything about where you've been?"

Harry let out a bark of laughter. He couldn't believe it - here he was trying to find Draco someone to warm his bed and he was accusing  _Harry_  of cheating!

"Are you actually accusing me of cheating on you?" Harry responded incredulously.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Draco replied, tone turning cool. "I am simply concerned about you disappearing for hours on end and then not telling me where you've been when you get home. You always tell me about your day and you've been strangely tight-lipped the past few nights." His icy demeanour wavered slightly. "You've always been open and honest with me Harry, it's one of the things I'm able to count on you for."

Harry's jaw clenched as he stared back at him. That little flare of anger was not abating and he knew it was because he was tired and emotional, and it was simply bad timing on Draco's part but he couldn't stop himself from taking it out on him regardless.

"I can't believe you'd think that of me," he replied tersely.

Draco frowned. "And I can't believe you're still avoiding the question. Where were you?"

Harry felt edgy and hot all over; he  _was_  trying to hide something and he knew he looked guilty, but he also felt his irrational temper rising to the occasion. "Okay fine, I  _was_  at a pub. And I smell of cologne because another bloke had his hands on me."

Draco took a step back, stricken.

Harry sighed and shook his head; he didn't want to do this, he didn't want to hurt Draco, and, as tempting as it was for a split second, he didn't want to pretend that he'd slept with someone else just to push Draco away either. 'Hurt him to save him' wasn't a game he particularly wished to play.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he said wearily, rubbing his temple with one hand.

"Just how the fuck  _did_  you mean it Potter?" Draco snapped, recovering himself. "You know what? I don't care, do want you want. You seem to anyway."

Harry flinched as the sound of Disapparation abruptly cracked through his small home, leaving him alone with just the faint odour of something burning in the air.

"Shit," he uttered, feeling slightly panicked; he hadn't expected Draco to  _just leave_. How did this night spiral out of control so quickly?

Harry Disapparated to Knockturn Alley and made his way to Draco's shop. He knocked at the door, eyes flicking to the invisible security camera up in the corner and back again. Harry bit his lip as he waited. There was no sound from inside and no flickering lights noticeable through the upper windows. Either Draco hadn't come here or he was pointedly ignoring him.

Harry turned around with a heavy sigh. Why hadn't he just told Draco the truth straight away instead of dithering? Now the Slytherin believed that he'd had an affair. Harry knew that if the roles were reversed, he would be broken-hearted over the thought that Draco had been with another man.

Harry rubbed a hand over his face with a hushed groan of self-loathing.  _Now what?_

He decided to seek out some level-headed company for a bit while simultaneously giving Draco some space, then he would return to wait for his affronted lover and attempt to explain his cagey behaviour.

 

**. . . .  
**

 

"Oh Harry, you didn't?" Hermione gasped, hand coming up to hover over her mouth, shock and dismay written all over her face.

Harry groaned and covered his face with one of her rose pink sofa cushions in response. He was currently lying on his back on her lounge room sofa. Ron had been in bed when he arrived - long days as a busy Auror forcing him to turn in early every night - but Hermione had welcomed him in with a vibrant smile.

She'd been happy to see him until he let the bomb drop on what had happened with Draco.

"Go on, tell me how I've bollocksed everything up and how much of a complete arse I am," Harry said, voice muffled against the cushion.

Hermione sighed and reached over to grab the cushion away from his face. "I think you already know how much of an idiot you are," she said deprecatingly. "How on earth could you think that finding Malfoy a new boyfriend would be a good idea? Do you have any idea how insulting and… and creepy that is? And then to allow him to believe that you cheated on him? Harry… how could you be so thick?"

In lieu of a sofa cushion, Harry covered his face with both hands. "I don't know 'Mione," he moaned. "I obviously didn't think it through before jumping in with both feet."

Hermione couldn't help but smile fondly as she lowered herself onto the sofa next to her best friend. "I know Harry, you do tend to do things without thinking them through logically first."

Harry peered up at her through spread fingers. "So what do you think I should do?" he asked, green eyes imploring piteously.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hit him with the pillow. "Go talk to your bloody boyfriend Harry! Explain what happened so that he doesn't think you're a cheating arsehole, and slip in how much of a pillock you've been as much as possible, and maybe  _then_  he'll forgive you. Merlin, it's not that difficult."

Harry glared at her then sighed as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Right," he said. "I will go home, collect my coat, and perhaps a blanket, and then camp out at Draco's flat until he agrees to hear me out. How's that for a plan?"

Hermione grinned and gave him a pat on the head. "Good, go sort this out, because as unbelievable as this is, I think the two of you are something special together." Hermione took his hand in hers when her words caused Harry's eyes to tighten with sorrow. "Don't think about that," she said quietly.

"Live in the now?" Harry bantered weakly.

Hermione nodded and shifted closer, suddenly looking conspiratorial. "And while you're here Harry, there's something I want to tell you. I wanted you to be first to know, so it's actually quite fortunate that you knocked on our door this evening."

Harry raised his brow at her oddly animated expression. "Okay…"

Hermione smiled, practically glowing, and Harry instantly knew what she was going to say before she said it. "I'm pregnant."

Harry's eyes widened and a grin slowly split his face. "Congratulations 'Mione," he said, somewhat stunned. "I can't believe it… I didn't even know you two were trying. Does Ron know?"

Hermione laughed, eyes shining with emotion. "Yes Ron knows, he would have killed me if  _you_  had found out first. But no one else knows, not even Molly or Arthur or my parents. I'm just six weeks along. I must confess it was a little earlier than planned but… we're really pleased."

Harry smiled back at her, firmly pushing aside the thought that he wouldn't be around to see his best friend's child grow up.

"And if it's a boy we want to name him Harry."

Harry blinked, gaping at her in surprise. "You… you can't."

Hermione laughed, a few tears spilling down her cheeks which she absently wiped away with her hand. "We can and we will. We've already discussed it and it's settled. You're our best friend Harry and if you can't be here for our child to get to know, then we wanted to be able to share some part of you with him."

"Wow…" Harry replied, somewhat overcome, "and Harriet if it's a girl?" he added, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Perhaps," she giggled.

Harry gave her a hug, and told her again how happy he was for them both, before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to stand. "Well, if you and Ron can bring a baby into this world, then I should be able to face Draco and whatever wrath he wishes to inflict on me." He paused and smiled warmly at her. "Thanks for listening 'Mione."

"Any time Harry." Hermione tossed the sofa cushion aside before following Harry to the front door and opening it to the cool night air. "Now go get your man back."

Harry rolled his eyes before waving and walking off down the front path to the road. He strolled along in the moonlight for a few minutes, breathing deeply to ensure that he was in control of his emotions enough to face Draco again. He didn't want a repeat of earlier when his temper had gotten the better of him. He knew he'd been in the wrong and becoming defensive was  _not_ going to help matters.

Harry arrived home in Godric's Hollow to see lights flickering within the cottage. There were only a handful of people the wards would allow to enter without him there but he walked inside with wand in hand regardless.

A sense of deja vu washed over him as he entered the kitchen to see Draco sitting at the table again, the same cup of tea still sitting abandoned in front of him.

"Draco… I was just about to go to your flat," he said tentatively as he approached, relieved that Draco had felt reasonable enough to seek him out.

His relief was short-lived however when he saw the crumpled receipt on the table in front of Draco with Tim's name and phone number scrawled on it.

"I found this in your coat," Draco said needlessly, tone flat.

Harry sat in the chair next to Draco without even glancing at the paper, eyes intent on his impassive lover. "Draco, I know what I said earlier but this isn't what it looks like," he said.

"I admit it, I was looking through your coat for evidence," Draco said as though he hadn't heard him, eyes cast downward. "I never thought I'd actually find something…"

Harry swallowed at the bleak desolation in Draco's voice. "Draco, please listen to me. I  _didn't_  cheat on you - I would  _never_  cheat on you."

Draco looked up with accusing eyes. "Care to explain the alcohol on your breath and the stench of another man's cologne on your shirt then?" Without waiting for a response, Draco suddenly pushed back his chair with the screech of wood and walked away a few paces in agitation. "I can't believe you've reduced me to this… this jealous lover act Potter. I fucking hate feeling like this!"

Harry jumped to his feet and grabbed onto Draco's shoulders before the man could do something rash, like Disapparate before hearing the truth. "I promise you I wasn't fooling around. I got his phone number for  _you_."

Draco froze and stared at him; confusion and disbelief warring in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Harry took a deep breath and pushed on. "I couldn't stand the thought of you alone and depressed after I was gone so I thought it would be a brilliant idea to find someone for you."

Draco stared. "That's insane." He shook his head and wrenched himself out of Harry's grip. "I don't' believe you… You said some bloke had his hands on you."

"I'm sorry I phrased it that way," Harry replied, cringing. "I told him I was dying so he gave me a friendly hug - but that's all it was. It wasn't sexual in the least. He's a really nice bloke and I told him all about you…" Harry trailed off, the words sounding absurd when spoken aloud.

Draco swallowed, narrowed eyes flicking around Harry's face as though searching for the truth.

"I'm sorry I didn't rush to explain earlier," Harry continued into the tense silence, his anxiousness lessening the longer Draco seemed willing to stay and listen. "I was trying to hide it from you because I didn't want you to know until… until after. I was going to leave you a letter explaining everything."

Draco's grey eyes suddenly seemed to blaze with fury. "You- you absolute wanker!" he ground out, turning away from him to pace the room again. "Why would you do something like that?"

"So… you believe me then?" Harry asked, taking a step forward, needing to know that he hadn't broken the trust between them, that he hadn't ruined everything.

Draco spun to face him. "Of course I believe you - only  _you_  would do something so… so ridiculous!" he exclaimed, voice tight with frustration. "Tell me Harry, was it your plan for me to begin dating him while you were still with us or wait until the third of May?"

Harry flinched; he deserved Draco's anger and whatever else the blond wanted to throw at him after allowing him to believe what he had today. "After," he whispered shamefully.

"Oh well good," Draco sneered, so much like his younger self that Harry had to firmly remind himself that this wasn't the same Malfoy even though he was doing a good impression of it. "I wouldn't want to go without a decent shag for  _too_  long."

Harry kept his mouth shut; he knew Draco was lashing out because he was angry and hurt, it had nothing to do with the truth. He ignored the impulse to walk away and instead walked right up to Draco and stood inches away from him.

"When I was talking to Tim, telling him about how perfect you are, I began to realise what a foolish plan this was," Harry said steadily, staring into guarded grey eyes. "He sensed that I was becoming reluctant about the whole proposal and suggested that he just be a friend to you instead, that he could keep an eye on you, encourage you to date - things like that, but not be anything more. I agreed and he gave me his mobile number, that's why it was in my pocket, and that's where I've been the past three nights, looking for him at the Shaftesbury Pub."

Harry could sense Draco's anger fading a little, the tightness around his eyes diminishing.

"Do you know how insulting this is Harry?" Draco asked; tone now quietly wounded instead of furious. "That you thought there was even the slightest chance that I would want to jump into another relationship after your death?"

Harry inhaled; the self-reproach overwhelming at what he'd inadvertently suggested of Draco's devotion and regard.

Draco looked up, meeting his contrite gaze. "I know you don't want to hear this Harry but, I don't  _want_  anyone else after you're gone. Perhaps in time I'll feel ready, maybe years in the future or maybe never, the point is, how I deal with losing you is  _my_  choice and you have no fucking say in it…"

Harry's shame and contrition nearly choked him when he saw how truly gutted Draco was. He wanted to wrap his arms around him so badly but he wasn't sure if the gesture would be welcomed or not. "I'm sorry," he uttered, knowing it wasn't nearly enough. "You're right, I… I'll stop trying to interfere in your future, I'll stop trying to take charge of something that isn't mine to direct. It's just… hard."

Draco sighed resignedly. "I know not being in control is hard for you Harry, it's who you are, and I know you rush in to make sure people are okay with barely a thought to your own happiness."

Harry knew Draco hadn't meant that as a compliment. "This is where it starts to get difficult, isn't it?" Harry said quietly. "The closer we get to May the more tense things get, the more rowing we'll do…"

Draco looked at him.

"We still have eight months," Harry said, offering a weak smile, "and we still have Christmas."

Draco looked as though he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that, and, without waiting a second longer, Harry quickly moved in to slide his arms around Draco's warm torso, burying his face into the side of Draco's neck and inhaling his lover's familiar scent; the fragrance suffusing his body and soothing his frazzled nerves.

After a slight pause in which Draco's stiff form seemed to shudder and then relax, strong arms finally came up to wrap around Harry in return and hold him close, nose buried in unruly dark hair.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered for a second time, knowing the words were inadequate but essential nevertheless.

Draco's arms tightened around him and warm breath huffed into Harry's hair, tingling across his scalp. "I know you are," he said in return. "And thank you for not asking me if I want out again, I know it was probably on the tip of your self-righteous tongue."

Harry chuckled, eyes still closed and cheek resting on Draco's shoulder. "Thank you for putting up with my gormlessness."

"I am quite used to your gormless ways by now Potter," Draco replied with reluctant amusement.

Harry sighed. "Can we not talk about this anymore today and just go to bed? I'm shattered."

"How about let's not talk about this again at all?"

Harry opened his eyes with a concerned frown. "But…"

"Alright alright," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes. "We'll talk about my new best friend another day."

Harry smiled as he pulled back and looked him in the eye. A flash of movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he looked over Draco's shoulder to see a robed figure standing in the open doorway of the cottage. The thought that he must have left the door open on his way in flashed through his head just before he registered the raised wand pointed straight at Draco's back.

"Draco!" Harry shouted frantically as he shoved the blond out of the way as a jet of light erupted from the tip of the figure's wand and raced towards him.

Taken by surprise, Draco stumbled and fell to the floor, falling hard onto his side.

Harry cried out as the red-hot sting of the curse hit him in the side, slicing him open. He stumbled to his knees but managed to withdraw his wand, his free hand covering his wound to help stem the flow of warm blood as he looked up, wand pointed, but the person had already fled.

" _Shit_ …" Harry cursed as he struggled to get to his feet again and chase after the stranger.

"Stay the fuck down Harry."

Harry glanced up to see that Draco had crawled over to him with a severe expression on his face. He looked scared and shaken and furious all at once.

"But-"

"Stop it. The camera caught everything."

Harry hissed in pain as he shifted on the floor. "I don't have a camera…" he said in confusion, wondering if the blood loss was already affecting his ability to think clearly.

Draco forced him down onto his back none-too-gently, and leaned over to inspect Harry's bleeding side. "Just stay still Potter," he murmured. He withdrew his wand as he lifted Harry's torn t-shirt to inspect the wound. "It isn't too deep," he observed under-his-breath, the relief evident. He then placed one hand on Harry's stomach and the tip of his wand on the other side of the wound and uttered a few healing charms to cauterise the gash and then close and seal the skin back together.

Harry bit his lip to keep from making any noise as the painful throbbing increased for a moment and then cooled as the laceration shimmered with a blue haze for a second and then faded.

"There," Draco said, exhaling shakily, system obviously still rife with adrenaline. "Now lie still a moment while I firecall the Aurors."

For once, Harry obediently lay back down and closed his eyes, his breathing slightly unsteady and heart still pounding. He could hear Draco talking in the other room and wondered if he should notify Ron as well. His friend would probably want to know about what happened straight away. The site of his injury was still tingling with a lingering cooling sensation, tendrils of which seemed to be stretching out around the location now, but at least the pain was gone.

The talking stopped and Harry heard footsteps stride swiftly to the door and, after a moment, the door closed and the wards were put back into place. The hum of security magic suddenly surrounded the cottage all at once and Harry felt the protective warmth of it seep into his body and chase away the last of the healing charm's unpleasant chill.

Harry cracked heavy eyes open a little and looked up to see Draco standing above him, one of his latest camera models in hand as he stared down at it in concentration.

Harry frowned, perplexed, as he tried to remember when he'd installed the device…

A powerful lethargy suddenly seemed to sweep over him and he closed his eyes, content in the knowledge that at least the Aurors were on their way and the house was secure. He didn't think he could move now even if he wanted to.

The last thing he heard was Draco speaking to him but the words sounded far away and didn't make any sense as he succumbed to the persistent slumber dragging him under right there in the middle of the kitchen floor.


	15. Eyes That Know Me

Harry woke to the sound of voices murmuring from downstairs. He blinked open his eyes and grimaced as his stomach churned; the feeling akin to waking abruptly from a nap that wasn't nearly long enough.

He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was lying on top of his bed and someone had draped the red and gold knitted blanket from his downstairs sofa over him. The room was swathed in darkness and a glance towards the window confirmed that it was still night.

He turned and spotted his glasses neatly folded on his nightstand and quickly slipped them onto his nose before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He wobbled for a moment, the nausea easing as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Once he felt in control of his faculties again, he strode to the door and cautiously made his way downstairs. The hum of voices increased in volume as he approached the kitchen. He walked in to see a few Aurors in their trademark scarlet robes standing around the small kitchen table with Draco standing next to them, a solemn expression on his face.

Draco was the first to notice him. "Harry, how are you feeling?"

They all turned to him as one and Harry crossed his arms over his chest as he walked in to join them, feeling uncertain and out of the loop. "What's going on? Did you catch him?" he asked after flashing Draco a tight smile in answer to his question.

"Actually it was a  _her_ , and yeah we did. Thanks to Malfoy's camera."

Harry turned to Ron in surprise, not having recognized him earlier in his official Auror robes. "Her?" he repeated. "Who?"

Ron turned to him, lifting a moving photograph of a girl who looked to be no more than sixteen years old with blonde hair and pale skin littered with freckles. "Remember Hannah Abbott? This is her cousin - Isla."

Harry walked closer and squinted at the photograph, then shook his head. "I've never seen her before. Why would she do this?"

Ron sighed and slid the photograph back into a well-used brown folder. "Seems it was a combination of things; her family was affected quite a bit during the war, she lost her father and brother, and was not happy that some of the people she thought responsible were released without adequate punishment."

"Like Draco and his mother?" Harry guessed with a disapproving frown.

Ron nodded. "She said you're the most powerful wizard alive and that being with Malfoy would turn you into the next Dark Lord. She also had a bit of a crush on you. It all added up to a somewhat unstable young lady."

Harry raised a brow. "So you have her in custody?"

"Yeah, she's at the Ministry being processed."

Harry exhaled and walked over to sit in one of the chairs, feeling drained. He shot a glance over at Draco and suddenly noticed how stiff the blond seemed to be holding himself. "You alright?" he asked.

Grey eyes flared and Harry realised that his lover was angry about something.

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, we'll head off now mate," he interjected uncomfortably, tucking the folder under his arm and motioning for the other Aurors to clear the cottage. "We can get a statement from you later, and you should maybe get checked over at St. Mungo's at some point today too Harry."

Harry nodded absently. "Yeah thanks for your help Ron," he replied, getting to his feet again.

"We'll see ourselves out," Ron added, then looked to Draco. "Thanks for letting us borrow the camera, I'll let you know about the commission."

Draco nodded briskly and then they were gone.

Harry turned to face Draco. "Alright, what I have I done now?" he asked with a weary sigh, not in the mood for another row.

Draco stalked up to him and Harry thought for one crazy moment that Draco was going to hit him. "Don't you  _ever_  take a curse meant for me again Harry Potter," he ground out, voice quietly furious.

Before Harry could respond, Draco had grabbed him and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace that spoke of fear and anger and the aftermath of an adrenaline-fueled incident that won't soon be forgotten.

Harry swallowed thickly and could only wrap his arms around Draco reassuringly in return.

"I know what you're thinking," Draco muttered after a moment, lips moving hotly against the skin of his neck. "That you're going to die soon anyway, so what does it matter?"

Harry smiled a little and kept quiet; it was exactly what he'd been thinking.

"Promise me you won't do something like that again. That you won't take chances or do anything stupid just because you think it doesn't matter."

Harry pulled back and nodded; green eyes tired but sincere. "I promise," he murmured. "I don't know if I can promise not to do anything stupid because I seem to do that without realising it all the time - but I'll try."

Draco's expression relaxed into a slight smirk. "Good, I won't be cheated out of my full eight months."

Harry smiled and raised his hand to caress Draco's cheek with an easy familiarity; an affectionate gesture which spoke volumes on how intimate their relationship had become. "Tea?" he asked, stepping away to head towards the cupboards.

"Please."

Harry began to prepare the tea and frowned down at the kettle as he filled it from the tap, remembering something. "When did you install a security camera at my front door?"

Draco lowered himself into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh, glad to finally be off his feet, and ran a hand through his untidy hair. "Just after the Prophet article came out and Blaise mentioned that your cottage could possibly become a target."

Harry glanced back over his shoulder. "Really? Why didn't you tell me?"

Draco flashed him a look. "Because you were already obsessed enough with this stalker business and I didn't want to exacerbate the problem."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the open cupboard to retrieve a couple of well-used teacups from its depths.

"When Weasley told Kingsley about how they identified the suspect, he was interested in possibly using some of my work within the Auror Department," Draco mentioned, trying to sound off-hand but Harry could detect the note of pride in his voice.

Harry turned around with a delighted grin. "That's brilliant!"

Draco allowed a pleased smile to stretch his lips. "Yes well, they shan't use  _all_  of my devices."

Harry chuckled. "Of course not, can't let the Ministry in on all your trade secrets."

Draco smirked as Harry carried their tea over and set it down along with a couple of ginger biscuits each.

"Does your side feel alright?" Draco asked as he took a sip of soothing Chamomile.

"Yeah, feels fine." Harry lifted the corner of his t-shirt to show off the thin pink line across his skin which would eventually fade to white, the only evidence of his previous wound. "Nice job."

Draco's forehead creased with a censorious frown as he cupped his tea in both hands, warming them. "I'd rather not repeat the experience if it's all the same to you."

Harry smirked over the rim of his cup. "Hopefully you don't have any more stalkers hiding in the woodwork."

Draco's lips twitched into a reluctant smile, picking up on Harry's light-hearted mood. "Not that I know of," he quipped. "Although I did have a bit of a serial stalker in sixth year,  _you_  might know something of that Potter…"

Harry laughed and quickly set his cup down before he spilt any of the hot liquid. "Yeah, I'm fairly certain  _that_  particular stalker wanted to shag you, not murder you."

One pale brow arched in response. "Oh?"

Harry shrugged as he selected one of the biscuits off the side of his plate. "Maybe subconsciously. I've wondered about it ever since our relationship progressed into more than just shagging. Perhaps there was an attraction there all along and that's why I was so consumed by everything you did or were planning to do..." he trailed off with another shrug.

"Hmm…" Draco hummed thoughtfully before taking another sip of tea. "Even if you were aware of an attraction, I doubt you would have acted on it then."

Harry chuckled. "No probably not, especially if I didn't think you felt the same way. It was always such a competition between the two of us, wasn't it? I would  _never_  have admitted to something like that first."

Draco's responding smile was so warm that Harry wondered what the blond was thinking to make him look so fond. "Nor I," was all he said.

Harry smiled and popped the last of his biscuit into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

Draco drained the last of his tea and sat back, concealing a yawn behind his hand.

"Bed?" Harry suggested, suddenly remembering that Draco had been awake even longer than him.

Draco nodded and pushed his chair back.

"Leave it," Harry ordered firmly when the Slytherin went to clear away his cup. "I'll get these, you go upstairs."

Draco nodded drowsily, too tired to argue, and headed upstairs.

Harry cleared away the cups and carefully washed them out in the sink before setting them aside on the draining board. He then turned to the unpleasant stain of dried blood on the floor from where he'd been standing when the curse had hit him. Wrinkling his nose, he withdrew his wand and quickly spelled the floor clean. He hoped the Aurors already got what they needed from the "scene of the crime" because they were all out of luck now. He didn't want it to still be there in the morning as a reminder to Draco when the blond was already on edge over the incident.

Satisfied, Harry turned and retreated to his bedroom. Draco was just emerging from the shower when Harry entered, a towel knotted around his slim waist.

Harry flopped back onto his bed, watching Draco move about the bedroom; pulling on clean pants and combing his fingers through damp hair.

"If I wasn't so exhausted, I would be highly aroused right now," Harry imparted, bright green eyes on Draco as he pulled back the covers and climbed in; all smooth pale skin illuminated in the moonlight.

Draco smirked at his cheekiness before prodding him in the side to get him moving.

Draco extinguished the lights with a quick flick of his wrist as Harry pushed himself back onto his feet with a heavy sigh and stripped down to his pants, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor before sliding between cool sheets. He shuffled over and curled around Draco's shower-warm back, one arm wrapped loosely around Draco's waist. He pressed a kiss to the back of Draco's neck, just below the short blond hairs at his nape. He inhaled the smell of soap and Draco's skin with a quiet huff of contentment.

Draco wriggled back against him, as though wanting to get as close as humanly possible. "I should probably tell you that by tomorrow the story of this attack will be all over the papers," he said into the quiet of the darkened room.

"How?" Harry asked with a yawn, allowing his eyes to fall closed.

"The reporters who continually stake-out the Ministry got an earful from Isla Abbott as she was brought in. She had no problem shouting to the world at large that you were about to be the next Dark Lord thanks to me, and that someone else needed to take up the charge."

Harry groaned in exasperation, hoping she would come off as legitimately crazy in the media and not like a martyr to be emulated.

"I thought perhaps we could go on a bit of a minibreak," Draco suggested hesitantly. "Try to escape the worst of the media deluge by getting away for a while."

Harry's eyes opened and he stared at the shadowed outline of Draco's head on the pillow in front of him. "Really? That sounds… brilliant. I would really like that."

Harry could hear the smile in Draco's voice when he said, "I'll make some arrangements in the morning and we can leave straight away."

Harry closed his eyes with a soft smile of contentment, Draco's lean body pressed warmly to his front, grounding him, enabling him to drift off to sleep with ease.  
  


**. . . .**   
  
  


After that, time seemed to speed up, as though life was on fast-forward: a whirlwind trip to Paris to escape the media frenzy of Harry's attack, the changing colours of Autumn and the arrival of cooler weather, Hermione's growing baby bump, Draco's official subcontract with the Auror Division, a joyful and merry Christmas, ringing in New Year's amidst the exciting and hilarious stupor of alcohol, loud music and good friends…

And then suddenly it was April and everything seemed to come to an abrupt halt.

The light-hearted smiles and moments of laughter became fewer and farther between, and although they didn't speak of what was to come, Harry would hold Draco's hand just that little bit more or for a little bit longer, and Draco would sit a little bit closer or linger in Harry's gaze with a little more frequency.

It was all the little things that suddenly began to matter the most; they never spent a night apart anymore or missed a meal together, they read books on the sofa in front of the fire together, brushed their teeth together, went grocery shopping together… And yet through it all, they never talked about it. All they could do was say 'I love you' with words and touches and looks - and it would have to be enough.

Harry's silent tears would wash down the drain with the shower water more often than not and Draco would sometimes emerge from the bedroom with faint red rims around pale grey eyes, but still they didn't talk about it.

Harry set aside a day to spend with each of his friends individually during the course of the month, with Draco accompanying him for the duration. It was reminiscent of the time he had separately told his friends the news that he was dying, which seemed so long ago now. This time Draco came along when it came time for his final day with Ron and Hermione - and the newest addition to their little family.

"I think Harry needs a nappy change."

"That is fucking disconcerting Granger," Draco drawled while Hermione handed her wriggling son over to Ron.

Harry -  _adult Harry_  - sniggered, sharing an amused glance with his disturbed lover.

They had spent the entire day together in Muggle London and Diagon Alley before retreating to Ron and Hermione's home for the evening; an unspoken agreement in place to not to speak of what was to come in only two days' time.

"Maybe we should call him Harry Jr. to make things easier," Ron suggested as he hefted his tiny son to his shoulder, his freckled nose wrinkling at the smell emanating from the warm body.

"You don't have to worry about it for much longer," Harry remarked before he could stop himself.

Draco stiffened at his side and Harry quickly placed a hand over Draco's.

"Sorry," he apologised quietly to the room at large. "So… is he sleeping through the night?" he asked quickly to fill the strained silence.

Hermione cleared her throat and forced a smile. "Yeah, he's been amazing actually; this motherhood thing is a breeze."

Ron rolled his eyes as he knelt on the floor beside the sofa, laying baby Harry down on a waiting blanket to change him. "I keep trying to tell her that it  _does_  get harder but she doesn't believe me. I remember Ginny being an absolute nightmare as a baby - and mum said she was the best out of the lot."

Hermione clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly. "Little Harry has enough Granger genes in him that he won't be a  _nightmare_  Ron. Honestly, Molly thinks she's the authority on children just because she's had a few."

Harry urgently shook his head at his friend as Ron opened his mouth to disagree. Harry didn't know much about babies and child-rearing, but he did know enough to know that a husband should  _never_  insinuate that the mother-in-law knows better than the wife.

Ron cottoned on and hid a grin as he ducked back down to slip a clean nappy onto his son. Once he was done, baby Harry was gently placed into Harry's waiting arms.

Harry smiled down at his tiny namesake; the lad still had clear blue eyes, which looked far too big for his head, and a few wispy tufts of strawberry-blond hair sticking up at all angles on his silky-soft head. The baby looked up at him with what looked like a puzzled frown, as if to say "who are you?"

Harry chuckled and stuck a finger into one tiny waving fist and the petite fingers grasped on with surprising strength.

Baby Harry gurgled happily at the turn of events and Harry laughed before looking up at Hermione to catch her reaction. His dear friend had tears soundlessly coursing down her cheeks.

"Oh 'Mione," Harry said, his voice breaking on the words. He quickly looked back down at the baby, now viewing him through a watery haze of tears.

Draco slid a warm hand onto his thigh and gently squeezed.

Harry could feel the welling of emotion in his chest, like a bomb expanding to capacity just before it explodes. He knew it would burst out of his body in a messy tangle of tears and sobs, and of wanting to scream at the unfairness of it all.

He bit his lip, hard, and continued to stare down at the happily oblivious baby, not knowing what else to do. When his tears began to drip down under his glasses and onto the baby's soft white romper, the little body was gently pried out of his hands and a pair of arms wrapped around him on both sides.

Harry forced his eyes open. Hermione was on his right, Draco on his left, and Ron was kneeling on the floor in front of him with the baby in his arms; for once not wiggling, as though he understood the gravity of the situation.

Quite without meaning to, a choked sob slipped from between Harry's lips and he ducked his head, dark fringe flopping down over his eyes, trying to hide from the world in every conceivable way. Hermione and Draco both leaned in until their foreheads were pressed to Harry's, and Ron's hand was on his knee, the four of them needing to be connected, supported, in their silent grief.

Harry clenched his hands into fists in his lap and held back the great wracking sobs that he knew were just there. "It's not fair," he bit out, eyes closed, "for the first time ever I feel like I have a  _genuine_  life. One that is wonderfully normal and just getting started, and there's so much I want to be here for - and I  _won't_  be. I don't want to miss out, I don't… I don't want to leave you all."

"It still doesn't seem real," Hermione said, voice quivering as she pressed into his side. "I can't believe that in a couple of days you won't  _be here_  anymore…" she stopped and shook her head.

"It would've been better if I'd just died five years ago," Harry said roughly. "That way it wouldn't have dragged on like this, it wouldn't have affected people so much…" He reached out and took Draco's hand as he spoke, squeezing it almost painfully tight.

" _Nonsense_ ," Hermione disagreed fiercely. "We now had a proper goodbye and a chance to consciously value our time with you."

"And you got to experience so much more of what life has to offer over the last five years," Ron added, "not just fighting a bloody psycho or having to be the hero or living with your miserable Muggle relatives."

Harry laughed through his tears and opened his eyes to look at Ron, who smiled weakly at him, tear tracks visible on his ruddy cheeks.

"I think you've had enough adventures for three or four lifetimes worth Potter," Draco said thickly, the sharpness missing from his usual drawl.

Hermione shifted back, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and Ron moved to sit next to her, passing the baby over into her arms. She smiled at him; looking grateful for the solid warmth of her son to help soothe her emotions.

Draco remained plastered to Harry's side and Harry leaned into him, laying his head on his shoulder when Draco's arm came up to wrap around him.

"What are you doing tomorrow Harry?" Hermione asked with a sniffle, vainly trying to compose herself again.

Harry shared a quick look with Draco before replying. "We're going to Hogwarts actually."

Both Ron and Hermione couldn't help but smile a little at his words.

Harry felt some of his sorrow lift as the thought of returning to Hogwarts for his last day filled him with comfort and the honey-warm feeling of home.

"Does McGonagall know?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't want to involve anyone else. I'm taking my dad's old cloak with me." He paused and took a deep breath. "It'll just be me and Draco and Hogwarts; back to the beginning."

The others nodded and Harry knew they wouldn't truly understand his decision to die where he was meant to five years ago, but they would probably understand the place that Hogwarts held in his heart more than anyone else.

Harry exhaled shakily as he slowly straightened up and looked at the first friends he ever had. "I guess this is it then…" he said quietly, a part of him just wanting to get it over with and leave them to their happy home and burgeoning family.

Draco took baby Harry from Hermione's arms as the Gryffindor Trio stood and embraced for the last time; Hermione's shoulders shaking as she wept openly, the two boys supporting her.

"I want to be grateful for the extra time we've had with you Harry but it's so hard," Hermione choked out.

"It wasn't enough mate," Ron added, for once unreserved in his feelings.

Harry nodded his agreement, unable to say anything. Hermione's curly hair tickled his neck on one side and the warm weight of Ron's hand was heavy on his other shoulder. They'd been through so much in their short lives together; experiences that most people couldn't even dream of, experiences that cemented them as friends from the age of eleven.

"Thanks you," Harry whispered, knowing it was the one thing that needed to be said. "Thank you both for everything. I wouldn't have made it even this far without you two."

Hermione nodded her head as she emitted a choked sob and Ron's hand tightened on his shoulder for a moment before they reluctantly stepped back.

"Thank you for letting us join you on your crazy adventure of a life," Hermione said with a watery smile.

Harry smiled at them both as he quickly wiped his eyes, hoping the tears would stop now. He turned to Draco and held his arms out for the baby.

He looked down into little Harry's face with a gentle smile. "You be good for your mum and dad little Harry, they've been through enough thanks to me."

The baby gurgled back very seriously.

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, turning and dashing off to the cupboard. "I need to get a photo of the two of you."

Harry kept his eyes on the baby's adorably small face; big blue eyes falling closed and then flickering open again, trying to remain awake, little rosebud mouth open and moving around as though chewing.

"There." Hermione raised the Muggle camera to her eyes and snapped a few photos of Harry gazing down at her son and then a couple of him smiling at the camera for her. "Thank you," she murmured as she lowered the camera. "I know you hate having your picture taken."

Harry smiled as Ron gently lifted the baby from his arms. Draco's arms immediately came around his waist from behind and held him close. Harry was grateful, feeling suddenly bereft of warmth without the baby's comforting heat against his chest.

Harry exhaled shakily as he looked at them; Ron's right arm slung around Hermione's shoulder and baby Harry cradled in his other. They made such a picture of domestic bliss that Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I'd better go before I completely lose it," he said jokingly, taking a step back and sliding one hand into Draco's.

"Bye Harry," Hermione said, brown eyes shining.

"Yeah, bye mate," Ron said, swallowing heavily, and then glancing at Draco. "You take care of him tomorrow Malfoy."

Draco nodded soberly. "I will."

Harry could feel his emotions trying to get the better of him again so he quickly turned and pulled Draco along with him.

Ron and Hermione remained standing where they were in the lounge room, watching them leave and already feeling as though a vital part of themselves was missing; a Harry Potter-shaped hollow establishing itself in their hearts.  
  


**. . . .**   
  


Harry stood looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with an affectionate smile on his face and a contented gleam to his emerald eyes. He was standing on the old wooden dock overlooking the pitch black waters of The Great Lake with the castle looming in the distance, an early morning mist swirling around its grey stone base. He could just make out a couple of large shining hoops on the distant quidditch pitch beyond the castle and the extensive expanse of the Forbidden Forest stretched out as far as the eye could see to his right.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, the crisp May air cool in his lungs, clearing his head and causing it to feel less muddled than it had in a long time.

He glanced down at the small rowboat bobbing up and down in the water in front of him. Draco was gazing up at him expectantly from where he was sitting poised in the bow, his wand out and at the ready whenever Harry was ready to depart.

Harry smiled and hopped neatly into the back of the boat and sat down.

The little boat putted away at Draco's command and started them across the undulating surface of the dark fathomless lake.

"Déjà vu," Harry muttered as he sat there, taking it all in with wide eager eyes, keen to savour every second.

"What's that?"

Harry turned to his lover with a smile, black hair tossing about wildly in the wind. "It means a feeling of having done or experienced something before. I feel like I'm eleven years old again, coming to Hogwarts for the very first time."

Draco nodded in understanding and turned back to the magnificent view. "Déjà vu," he repeated, trying the words out.

The two fell silent as they slowly made their way across the vast lake.

They finally approached the other side and smoothly pulled into the waiting dock. Harry slid the backpack from his shoulders and quickly removed the invisibility cloak from within its depths.

Unfortunately his last full day fell on a Sunday and all the inhabitants of Hogwarts could potentially be milling about the grounds on their day off.

He quickly threw the cloak over himself and Draco and they disappeared from view. They linked hands and slowly and carefully made their way up the stone steps to the dew-covered grounds above.

"How many times did you spy on me with this thing Potter?" Draco whispered. There was no one around but he felt as though he needed to whisper nonetheless.

Harry grinned. "All the bloody time Malfoy," he replied, trying not to laugh. "Watched you wanking in the shower more times than I can count."

Draco snorted inelegantly. "I  _never_  wanked in the shower Potter."

"Really?"

"Yes, I kept it to my bed like any civilised Slytherin. Did you Gryffindors have communal wanking parties in the showers?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "No, but bloody hell that would have been hot!"

"Not with your candidate pool Potter, the Slytherins would have made a  _real_  fantasy of such a thing," he opined arrogantly.

"Ah yes, Crabbe and Goyle were right up there on my fantasy wanking list," Harry replied dryly.

Draco couldn't keep a straight face at that and they both laughed.

Harry smiled; feeling warmed and so grateful that he had the blond by his side. Draco was acting completely normal, as though they were on a date and this was just any other day, which is exactly what he wanted. He knew they couldn't keep it up until midnight but he hoped that it lasted most of the day.

Harry pulled back on Draco's hand to stop him and stood looking up at the impressive castle in front of them. He hadn't returned to Hogwarts since that terrible day five years ago and he'd missed the place. It was something he didn't know he'd been missing until the moment he'd spotted the great rising spires and turrets in the distance from across the lake. It was all so familiar; it was his home like no other place had ever been. The castle, the lake, the forest, the quidditch pitch, the grass-covered grounds, the Whomping Willow, Hagrid's Hut…

Harry smiled in satisfaction and glanced at Draco.

"Are we going inside?"

Harry nodded and allowed himself to be propelled up the wide stone steps to the grand entrance doors, which were being kept open, allowing the muted May sunshine to stream in through the broad doorway into the vast entrance hall beyond. Harry took everything in as they walked softly across the stone slabs; from the wandering pairs of students dressed in black robes interspersed with traces of bright house colours, right down to the tiny dust motes floating through the pale sunbeams.

The subdued chatter and quiet laughter of teenagers brought Harry right back to what it had been like on an ordinary school day all those years ago. In between fighting evil, he had had some normal days that included nothing more than class or roaming the school grounds with friends. It twisted his heart with a sudden yearning to be thirteen again, with the whole world laid out in front of you and waiting; nothing planned or written in stone yet.

Harry smiled, slightly misty-eyed. He really had lived a full life already and he'd never thought of it like that until that moment.

"Where to?" Draco whispered, giving Harry's hand a squeeze, grey eyes flicking around his face, trying to gauge how he was feeling.

Harry exhaled. "Let's start with… the Gryffindor common room."

Draco smiled, eyes lighting up with interest before carefully following Harry up the steps, vigilantly keeping the soft cloak over their slightly hunched forms, ensuring that their feet were adequately covered as well.

The moving staircases posed a slight challenge and they had to stifle their laughter as it suddenly rotated sideways, the cloak almost slipping off of their heads in the process.

Harry led Draco through the extensive network of corridors to the portrait of the Fat Lady and official entrance to the Gryffindor common room, and then waited for a student to let them in. It didn't take long for the large portrait to swing forwards and a lone male student to step out. Before it closed completely, Harry and Draco quickly stepped over the threshold and into the room.

Luckily most of the students seemed to be outside enjoying the mild weather and only a few stragglers were lounging about on the tatty furniture.

The large blackened hearth was lit with the relaxing crackle of a glowing fire and all the furniture was still worn and lumpy in appearance but Harry knew from experience that it was beyond comfortable, and he had fallen asleep more times than he could count in the squashy armchair next to the window. All the colours were warm, welcoming burgundies and golds, and there were books and parchments lying haphazardly over every available surface, along with half-finished games of gobstones and chess.

Harry smiled as he looked around; not much had changed at all and he was glad of it. He hadn't known just how much of the castle needed to be restored after the final battle, and he hadn't been back since to see if any drastic changes had been made or if everyone had simply rebuilt the old castle in its original form. He was pleased that it seemed to be the latter. He knew the castle was magical in its own right, so perhaps it wouldn't have allowed anyone to make changes regardless.

"Very Gryffindor," Draco whispered into his ear, making him jump, having almost forgotten the Slytherin was there. "Doesn't have the sophistication of the Slytherin dorms, but its comfortable enough I suppose."

Harry glared and lightly kicked Draco in the ankle. "Come on then, I want to see the Great Hall next."

They pushed back through the portrait, uncaring of the wide eyes glancing up to see the door swinging open on its own, and swiftly made their way back down the corridor, down the steps to the entrance hall, and then through the open doors to the Great Hall.

The Hall was empty and Draco quickly removed his wand from the waistband of his trousers and, with a flick of the wrist, had the large doors swinging shut behind them and locking with a resounding clang.

Harry raised his brows in surprise as the blond removed the cloak from over their heads.

"I need a break from all that hunching," he explained as he straightened up and stretched his neck with a slight wince.

"McGonagall is going to know we're here now," Harry said with a knowing grin before turning away to look around the massive room.

The floating candles and the candelabras lining the stone walls were unlit but the faux sky above was illuminating the room with pale sunlight, soft wisps of clouds slowly drifting across the pastel blue expanse. The head table stood empty yet still intimidating on the dais at the front of the Hall, and the long house tables with scratched and stained wooden surfaces from years of student abuse stretched out on all sides.

Harry slid into his usual spot at the Gryffindor table with a soft sigh. He placed his hands on the table-top and pressed his fingers into the lacquered surface until the tips of his fingers turned white. He smiled gently as he closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of lemon cleaner and the faint aroma of leftover breakfast still permeating the air. He rested his chin on folded arms and opened his eyes to look up at the head table. He could see, clear as day, Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Hagrid, and all the rest of his professors sitting tall and commanding in each of their seats; Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkling down at him with gentle affection and a sage intelligence that conveyed his years of experience and collected knowledge. That wise look had always calmed Harry and caused him to feel that everything was going to be alright because his headmaster knew what to do.

He smiled ruefully; he knew now that that wasn't always the case but at least Dumbledore had projected a confidence that had carried over to Harry in times of need or doubt.

Harry turned his head and laughed when he spied Draco seated at his usual position at the Slytherin table on the other side of the room. The blond lifted his chin with a sniff and glared disdainfully, causing Harry to laugh harder; he looked  _exactly_  how he had as a haughty teenager.

The doors to the Hall suddenly swung open with a groan and the headmistress stood tall and slim in the doorframe, wand out and lowered to her side.

"My goodness, Potter is that you?" she said in surprise as she took in Harry's grinning face and then noticed Draco on the other side of the room. "Mr. Malfoy? What on earth are you two doing here?"

Harry extricated himself from the bench and walked over to his former head of house. "Hi professor," he greeted with a smile. "How are you?"

Harry blinked in surprise when Minerva pulled him into a quick, tight hug before releasing him again.

"It's good to see you again Potter," she said then looked to Draco as he walked up to stand at Harry's side. "You too Mr. Malfoy. You nearly gave this old witch a heart attack sitting at your house tables like that, took me back quite a few years gentlemen. I do hope you haven't been fighting."

Harry chuckled and Draco allowed a small smirk to stretch his lips.

"We're just here on a trip down memory lane," Harry explained. "Sorry I didn't ask permission but…"

"Rules never applied to you anyway Potter?" McGonagall finished for him with an arched brow.

"Yeah, something like that," Harry grinned.

"What brought this on?" she asked with interest.

Harry shrugged and looked around the Hall. "I've been away for a while and I've missed the place. This is the first time I've been back since the castle was rebuilt."

"Glad to see you haven't forgotten us then Potter. You're going to create quite the commotion if the students see you here."

Harry's smile faltered. "Erm… I was trying to avoid that actually."

McGonagall nodded in understanding. "Of course, please yourself gentlemen. Do join me for a cup of tea if you have time before you leave."

"Thanks professor," Harry replied gratefully. "Oh and professor, would it be alright if we borrowed a couple of brooms from the supply cupboard for an hour or so?"

A warm smile cracked McGonagall's stern façade. "Yes of course Potter, remember that any damage to school property will need to be compensated though."

Harry laughed and nodded. "Yes professor."

Draco swallowed a smile and nodded in agreement.

She smiled at them both then sheathed her wand. "Good to see you both again," she said. "I'm pleased that you two managed to set aside your differences enough to realise how similar you actually were."

Harry smiled in surprise; he hadn't realised just how closely his professor had been paying attention to things like that. "Yeah, took us long enough though, what with Draco being so thick and all."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him in response and Harry grinned.

The headmistress shook her head and turned away to walk back up to her office. "Goodbye gentlemen, do behave while you're here. I don't need you influencing my current students with your ill-disciplined ways."

The two young men watched her leave for a moment before Draco reluctantly threw the invisibility cloak back overtop of them.

"Ready?"

Harry nodded and led the way into the entrance hall and then through the doors back outside to the grounds. Harry kept in step with Draco as they walked up the long winding path towards the quidditch pitch, an excited gleam of anticipation in his bright emerald eyes.

The huge pitch was thankfully empty, the wind causing the multi-coloured flags to flap above the tall, rickety spectator stands. The huge golden hoops on either end glinted in the sun and the grass field below was a bright lush green due to all the spring rain.

Harry grinned as he took it all in; nearly hearing the roar of the crowd in his ears as he gazed around.

"Shall we?" Draco swept the cloak from off of their heads and Harry could see the challenging glint of excitement in grey eyes.

Harry grinned and his heart swelled as they took off at a run for the large storage shed attached to the student locker rooms.

In that moment, nothing existed for him but the impending flight with Draco on the Hogwarts pitch. In that moment, he wasn't dying and Draco wasn't about to lose the man he was in love with; it was just two young, powerful wizards wanting -  _needing_  -to fly free and fast, for reasons more than just nostalgic.

They grabbed a test broom each and left the invisibility cloak, their coats and Harry's backpack in the middle of the pitch before kicking off from the dew-covered ground and taking to the air.

The wind whistled past Harry's ears, turning them red with cold, as he bent over the wooden handle of the broom and pushed it to its limits. He smiled, exhilarated from the pure enjoyment as he soared around the huge arena. He rose high into the air and then dove sharply towards the ground before pulling up at the last second and then doing it all again.

He finally pulled up, breathless, and with cheeks aching from smiling for such an extended period of time.

Draco hovered next to him with a smile on his face, though Harry could detect the first flickers of sadness just under his amusement.

Harry reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew the tiny golden Snitch that he'd stolen from the equipment shed.

"Ready?" he challenged Draco playfully.

Draco nodded, hands clenching with anticipation on his broom handle.

For the next few hours, the two men dove and sailed around the pitch, pretending to be in the midst of a vital match and each wanting to catch the Snitch for their team. Once one of them had caught it, they would immediately release it and they would begin all over again, chasing the tiny fluttering orb all around the arena as though their very lives depended on it.

Neither one of them wanted it to end. Neither one of them wanted to acknowledge the slowly setting sun or lengthening shadows; the morning slipping into late afternoon.

Harry caught sight of the Snitch and abruptly flipped upside down in order to reach out and grab it before Draco. He laughed with breathless exhilaration as he righted himself and held the Snitch aloft, grinning in triumph.

Both boys startled at the sudden cheering that reached their ears from below. It turned out that a few of the wandering students had caught a glimpse of their midflight antics from the grounds and had seated themselves in the stands to watch, thoroughly entertained by their talent despite not knowing who it was they were cheering for.

Harry smiled sheepishly, embarrassed by how victorious he'd acted upon catching the Snitch, the students would have no idea the history behind his and Draco's quidditch rivalry. He awkwardly waved down at them in thanks and then glanced over at Draco.

"Time to go?" he said reluctantly, folding his fingers around the golden Snitch, the metal instantly warming to his sweaty palm.

Draco nodded with a sigh as he brushed his hair out of his face.

They quickly flew to the ground and collected their things. To avoid having to talk to the small group of students who'd been watching, they used the brooms to soar back out of the arena and over to the top of the grass-covered hill overlooking the lake and just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

They lay the brooms down and collapsed onto the grass, legs stretched out in front and leaning back on their hands, gazing out over the quiet grounds laid out before them.

The students had mostly all returned to the castle by that time of the day, slowly making their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

Harry could see the candles igniting through the small arched windows as the sky continued to darken to a deeper blue above them. He envied the students the warmth and cheerful atmosphere of the Hall at meal times; it was one of his favourite memories of Hogwarts. Not any one particular meal but the feeling of all collecting in the huge warm Hall with friends and loud discussions of the day's events and which professor had yelled at whom.

Harry smiled fondly at the memory. He shifted over to sit pressed to Draco's side, Draco's arm immediately coming up to wrap around his shoulders to hold him close.

Harry sighed; feeling content and little tired, an unexpected lethargy beginning to creep in. He wondered if that was how it was going to happen; just a gentle falling asleep instead of the abrupt dropping dead that he'd feared. Sirius had said that it was easier than falling asleep and perhaps he'd been right.

He wasn't ready to let go just yet though.

"You're awfully quiet," Harry murmured, eyes still on the castle outlined against the indigo sky in front of him, the horizon beginning to tint with traces of pinks and oranges.

Draco swallowed and stared straight ahead. "I… don't really know what to say, now that we've finally come to this moment," he replied, seemingly adrift.

Harry was relieved to hear that Draco sounded sad and accepting rather than distressed. As much as it might be inevitable, he didn't want any more frustrated shouting or angry tears, it was time for peaceful acquiescence, to simply say goodbye because there was nothing more to be done now.

"Me either," Harry admitted softly, shivering a little as the evening air crept in.

Draco quickly cast a warming charm over the two of them and Harry felt his body relax with the sudden influx of heat.

"I want you to keep the invisibility cloak," Harry said into the silence.

"Shouldn't it go to Ron and Hermione?"

Harry shook his head. "No, they don't need it. You might be able to use it for your business, study its magical properties or something."

Draco smiled a little, still facing front. "Thank you. I know how much it means to you."

Harry nodded in response and the arm around him tightened. "I boxed everything up at the cottage and told Ron and Hermione to go through it, see if they wanted anything before it's all donated or thrown away. I made sure that all of your things were back at your flat before I locked it up for the last time." Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I… I didn't know what to do with my wand, so perhaps… perhaps it can just be buried with me."

Draco nodded, lips pressed together into a firm line.

Harry had picked out a little plot in the same graveyard as his parents. He hadn't really known what else to do and being buried there had just seemed fitting somehow, especially now that he'd actually spent some time in Godric's Hollow and lived there as a resident.

"I'm sorry."

Draco finally turned to look at him. "What for?"

"For… all this. I know we both agreed to this madness but… I still feel I owe you an apology for making you go through it. You would've been better off if I hadn't come back or if I hadn't come to live with you at all."

Draco's eyes darkened in the waning light. "Harry, the past two years have been the best of my life," he replied with quiet fierceness. "Regardless of the fact that it brought me to this moment, I have cherished being in love with you more than I ever thought possible. I don't think I'll ever feel for someone what I feel for you; as though you're the vital piece of what was missing in my life."

Harry's breath hitched in his throat as he stared at Draco's beautifully stubborn face. The blond was not as vocal with his feelings as Harry so his intensely fervent words meant that much more.

Any chance of a response was swiftly cut off as Draco pressed his lips firmly to Harry's.

Harry responded immediately; turning his body to face Draco's, wrapping his arms around him and holding on as though for dear life as he returned the impassioned kiss.

When Harry imagined their last night together, he had pictured sweet, gentle, drawn-out kisses - not the rough and needy kiss that Draco had just instigated. Strangely, in that moment, it was exactly what Harry needed; a forceful reaffirmation that he was still there, clinging to his physical life.

Harry's unabashed moan was instantly swallowed by Draco; his tongue curling around Harry's with frantic fervour, tasting, stroking, and memorizing every last taste and detail.

The slightest pressure to Draco's shoulders had the blond lying back on the grass and Harry immediately covered Draco's body with his own, settling his weight between parted legs with a reflexive moan of pleasure.

The soft, sensual little noises of desire escaping Draco's mouth caused Harry to unconsciously roll his hips into the solid body beneath him and they both groaned at the gratifying friction. Harry moved his lips from Draco's panting mouth, over his jaw, and down the side of his pale throat, placing warm kisses to the soft skin, slightly salty from their earlier flying exertions.

Harry sat up, a knee on either side of Draco's thighs, as he quickly and deftly began to unbutton Draco's shirt with shaking fingers. He tried to ignore Draco staring up at him; drinking him in with focussed grey eyes inflamed with the heat of arousal yet shadowed with melancholy.

He moved on to unbuckle the leather belt looping Draco's trousers and hurriedly pulled them down and off, tossing them aside with his shirt and pants. Harry took a moment to admire Draco's naked form laid out in the slowly fading light of day, committing to memory every smooth plane, every tiny freckle and unique scar. He avoided looking into those penetrating grey eyes because he didn't know what he would see and didn't want to ruin the moment by stopping.

As though reading his mind, Draco reached up to quickly divest Harry of his clothing, pulling the navy blue t-shirt over his head and knocking Harry's glasses askew in the process, causing a slight smirk to twitch his lips as he continued with every last article of clothing from the waist down.

Draco renewed their warming charm with an absent flick of his wrist as Harry quickly laid out the large soft blanket from his backpack. Harry settled down onto it and Draco moved in to lie on his side facing him. Arms instinctively reached out and wrapped around the other, legs entangling below.

Their earlier fire had been tempered to a gentle simmer now; heartbeats slowing and breathing evening out.

Harry finally allowed himself to meet Draco's gaze as the blond's hand softly stroked the back of his neck. "I love you for being here with me today," he said softly.

"Where else would I be?" Draco replied, fingers trailing up into Harry's hair and sinking into his dark mane.

"Out getting pissed?"

"That's on tomorrow night's agenda," Draco replied with a smirk that didn't quite meet his eyes, expression morphing into an almost pained grimace.

Harry raised a hand to tenderly smooth the frown lines creasing Draco's forehead. "Don't get too carried away," he admonished lightly. "You made me promise not to take chances and to not act as though my life doesn't matter anymore - and now I want you to do the same thing. Promise me that you will take care of yourself and allow others to help you too," he said, thinking of Ron and Hermione's promise to watch over Draco for him, as well as thinking about Tim and hoping that Draco would take the man up on his offer of friendship.

Draco swallowed thickly before nodding once, not trusting his voice to reply.

Harry smiled a little as his fingers continued to trace a delicate path from Draco's temple down over his cheek, thumb caressing those high cheekbones fondly before sliding forwards to grip the back of his head, pulling Draco in for a greedy kiss.

Draco met him halfway and Harry felt his erection renew itself rather quickly as his hand fisted in silky blond strands and his other hand freely roamed the warm expanse of Draco's naked back, muscles shifting sinuously under his fingers.

Harry spread his hand against Draco's lower back, encouraging his lover to roll over on top of him.

Draco suddenly pulled back with a slight gasp and pressed his forehead to Harry's. "I… I don't know if I can…"

Harry glanced down, noticing how Draco's erection had flagged and was now lying flaccid against his thigh. He glanced back up into Draco's apologetic eyes. "I'll take care of that," Harry said with an understanding smile, not wanting the Slytherin to feel bad for his emotions getting the better of his libido.

Harry shifted to straddle Draco's hips and leant down to begin trailing gentle kisses across his collarbone, down over his pale chest, stopping to nip and kiss each peaked nipple in turn, then on downwards over his ribs as they expanded and contracted with each shivery breath. Harry licked over his bellybutton and then further south, following the trail of darkened blond hairs that slowly spread out into an enticingly musky thatch between long lean legs. Harry noted with pride that Draco's prick had begun to stiffen again under his ministrations, and was flushing a deep rosy pink the closer his lips got to his groin.

Harry nuzzled into the crease between thigh and groin, his cheek just grazing the curved shaft next to him, lips pressing kisses down the inside of Draco's thigh and then over to the other thigh, bypassing Draco's cock entirely except for one quick swipe of his tongue over the smooth head that caused Draco to bite out a wanton cry and arch up in surprise.

Harry smiled against warm skin before finally turning his attention to the now fully erect cock in front of him with eager eyes. He lowered his mouth and immediately took Draco's prick all the way in; sucking and licking with fervour, his hand coming up to stroke the base in time with his mouth and tongue.

Draco's chest flushed pink as he writhed on the blanket, hips surging up as though wanting more; more contact, more pressure - more everything.

Harry hummed his approval, green eyes flicking up to take in Draco's expression contorted in pleasure; eyes squeezed tightly shut and head thrown back, pale blond hair in stark contrast to the dark blanket beneath.

It was a sight that burned itself into Harry's mind and one he knew he would take with him.

Harry slid one hand up the inside of Draco's trembling thigh and brought a single digit to his entrance, lightly stroking over the gathered skin before carefully sliding it in, all the while keeping his mouth working wetly over the stiff erection stretching his lips.

Draco suddenly reached down and grasped Harry's shoulder. "I want you. Now," he said, voice rough with arousal and need.

Harry raised his head to look up at him with a frown. "But… you're not ready yet."

Draco pulled on him firmly and Harry shifted up onto his knees, withdrawing his finger from Draco's body. "I'm ready. I want to feel it."

Harry nodded in acquiescence. Even if he felt uncertain, he wouldn't deny Draco anything at this point. Whatever his lover wanted he would have.

Harry swallowed as he took himself in hand and directed his prick to Draco's arse, the blond drawing his knees back in preparation and watching him intently. Harry slowly and carefully began to push into him in short little pulses, pushing his swollen head through the tight ring of muscle and then pausing before continuing again with the same small, gentle thrusts.

Draco lay back with a sigh; grey eyes watching with approval as Harry gradually pushed all the way in and stopped.

Harry could feel the perspiration break out on his forehead and chest as he forced himself to keep his movements as careful as possible so as not to hurt Draco, even though his body was screaming at him to snap his hips forward into that tight heat.

Harry leaned forwards onto his elbows and Draco's thighs came up to wrap around his hips. He stretched forward to kiss Draco's lips once, lovingly, a silent question in his touch.

Draco exhaled slowly, his body adjusting, and then smiled softly. "I'm alright."

Harry matched his smile, eyes locked on Draco's, and began to move, hesitant at first, watching for any sign of discomfort, and then with more confidence as Draco became lost in the sensation and rhythm of his thrusts.

Harry refused to think of anything else in that moment; eyes locked firmly on his lover, drinking him in, with no other thought in his head than of bringing him pleasure. His own pleasure was second to Draco's.

Harry pushed up onto his hands, changing angles, and, at Draco's urging, began to thrust faster and deeper. The skin of his knees were beginning to burn a little on the flannel blanket but he ignored it as his hips pistoned with shorter, faster thrusts. He could feel his own orgasm building just below the surface but he didn't want it to end yet.

Draco emitted a particularly loud moan, his bottom lip breaking free from where it had been pinned by his teeth in a vain attempt to keep quiet.

Harry loved it when Draco lost control and his eyes flared with arousal at the sight; the sounds Draco was making going straight to his cock. Draco reached down and began to roughly stroke himself between them and Harry knew he was lost. He moaned loudly and, unable to hold it back any longer, began to come; warm seed spurting into Draco's body as he thrust once more then stilled.

Draco stared unblinking at Harry as he quickly fisted himself to orgasm, gasping as he shot ropes of milky come all over his chest and abdomen as he gazed up at Harry's flushed body; arched and frozen in pleasure above him.

Harry collapsed forward onto his hands with a gasp, eyes still clenched shut, as he panted harshly, trying to get his breath back and unwilling to move yet.

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's sweat-sticky back, uncaring of the cooling stickiness between them as he pulled Harry down to rest in his arms, head cuddled into Draco's shoulder.

"Don't pull out," Draco entreated, his voice a low comforting murmur. "Not yet."

"I won't," Harry promised quietly, nuzzling in even closer.

The silence stretched between and Harry wondered what Draco was thinking. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, the afterglow of sex keeping them satiated enough for the time being.

The sky had darkened to more of a blacky-blue and Harry knew that the end of their time together was fast approaching. The stars began to glimmer above and the crescent moon was casting an ethereal glow across the rippling black waters of the lake below.

Harry swallowed as his cock softened enough to slip out of its own accord and he felt more than heard Draco's soft sigh of sorrow. The arms holding him tightened and Harry shifted a little to look up at him.

"Are you thirsty? I brought some tea."

Draco looked resigned as he nodded and released his hold on him.

As Harry knelt to retrieve his backpack and remove the flask of hot tea, he was flooded with such heavy desolation that he thought he would be sick with it. He couldn't help thinking that walking into the Forbidden Forest five years ago had been so much easier than this.

He poured them each a full cup and settled next to Draco, using his one free hand to thread their fingers together as Draco drank beside him in silence.

Draco placed his empty cup on the blanket then looked out over the grounds of Hogwarts.

Harry placed his untouched cup of tea on the grass and followed Draco's lead; gazing out at the lights flickering in the hundreds of tiny windows of the school. The night was fairly calm, with hardly any breeze, and their warming charm was holding strong, keeping them cocooned in comfort.

Harry exhaled; he felt calm but sad. He was ready and he wasn't at the same time. He tried to remind himself that this was what was supposed to have happened when he was a baby, when he was a teenager, and now again at twenty-five. He'd been trying to escape the inescapable for twenty-five years and destiny, he supposed, had finally caught up with him.

Draco covered a yawn beside him, looking surprised to feel drowsy.

Harry felt his insides twist; he had slipped a mild Sleeping Draught into the tea to ensure that Draco would be asleep come midnight.

"I love you Harry, I love you so much."

Harry turned at the quietly spoken words and swallowed thickly. "I love you too," he replied, because really, there was nothing else left to say.

Draco tugged him down onto the blanket once more, back into his arms, and they just lay there in silence as time slowly ticked over.

Harry felt his eyes burn and his vision blur with tears as he sensed Draco drifting off to sleep beside him, but he refused to let them fall. The Slytherin's breathing slowly evened out and Harry watched for the last time as eyelids fell closed over soft grey irises.

Harry turned his face into the warm skin of Draco's shoulder and inhaled the smell of his skin; a heady mix of salty sweat and Draco's favourite cologne which Harry had grown to love and associate with the feeling of safety that Draco's presence always elicited.

Harry pressed a kiss to Draco's shoulder before slowly sitting up. It tore his heart into pieces to carefully remove Draco's sleep-floppy arms from around him and place them down on the blanket at Draco's sides. He plucked his wand from his pile of clothes and quietly spelled Draco's clothes back onto his body so that he didn't wake up naked. He then pulled the bottom of the blanket up and around Draco's lower half before kneeling next to him and placing one last kiss to softly parted lips, his tears dropping silently onto pale cheeks.

Harry swallowed the sob that threatened to sneak past his lips as he stood and pulled on his clothes. He slid his wand back into the backpack at his feet before looking down at the sleeping form of his lover one last time.

It was then that the fear hit him and he quickly tore his gaze from Draco - from comfort and love and everything he could ever want in life - and turned to stride into the thick forest at his back.

He walked with a determined stride, shoulders squared, pushing back at the fear that was trying to overwhelm him.

He had decided long ago that he was not going to allow Draco to wake up next to his lifeless body, he was going to die where he'd been meant to five years ago; in the small clearing of the Forbidden Forest in which he had faced down Voldemort, in which he had sacrificed his life.

Faster than he would have liked, Harry entered the clearing from his memory, only this time, Voldemort and his horde of Death Eaters weren't there. He was alone in the silent glade and his fear evaporated as quickly as it had come.

He walked to the centre where a large cedar tree stood proud and tall, and sat down to lean against the base of it. The clearing was actually quite pretty when it wasn't full of Death Eaters or Dark Lords.

Harry removed a small glass vial from his jeans pocket and unstoppered it. The deep red liquid shimmered under the moonlight as he drank the powerful Sleeping Draught in one gulp, the syrupy liquid sliding thickly down his throat and into his stomach.

He hadn't wanted to just sit and wait for death to come to him, even if it  _was_  a gradual falling asleep, he wanted to control it as much as possible, and he figured taking a strong sleeping potion was the only way to do it.

Harry hugged his knees to his chest and rested his chin on top, staring out over the moonlit glade.

It wasn't long before the potion began to drag him under.

The last thing he did was smile in relief; now he could rest. Flashes of his life and the people he loved flew through his mind before it was enveloped in darkness and he slipped sideways to lie unmoving in the soft soil…

 

**. . . .**

 

 

…heavy eyes slowly dragged open as a warm beam of sunlight caressed sensitive eyelids.

They blinked. Then blinked again.

Black pupils narrowed and then focused on the movement in front of them. A rabbit. A brown rabbit snuffling in the grass a few metres away.

Sound came rushing back; wind whistling through trees, birds twittering, branches snapping…

Harry sat bolt upright with a loud, sharp gasp that hurt his chest.

Wide emerald eyes stared around in absolute confusion and panic.

"What…" he breathed out, mind whirring frantically.

He wasn't dead. He was in fact very much alive and breathing - rather fast.

Harry attempted to slow his thoughts to make sense of it all, his panic-stricken mind just this side of hysterical.

He carefully got to his feet, feeling detached, as though he were dreaming, and stood firmly on two feet.

He. Was. Alive.

He was  _fucking_   _alive!_

He let out a bark of laughter and a grin split his face. He didn't know what had happened but he didn't care as his heart swelled and he felt giddy with exhilaration.

"Draco!" he gasped suddenly.

He took off at a sprint, still grinning ear-to-ear, as he tore through the forest. He pushed through the underbrush, uncaring of the thorny vines that pulled at his rumpled coat and hair. The air filling his lungs had never felt so good, he felt like he could fly.

He finally approached the boundary of the forest and could just make out the grassy clearing where he and Draco had spent the evening together. He spotted the dark blanket first and then he saw Draco. He was still there; sitting with knees drawn up and his back to the forest.

Harry slowed when he saw that Draco's shoulders were shaking and that his blond head was tilted forward, face buried in his arms.

Harry suddenly stopped, still hidden by the forest.

What if he had got the dates slightly wrong? What if he had until midnight tonight instead of last night? What if this wasn't some kind of miracle or one of his nine lives that Ron used to tease him about and he  _was_  still going to die?

Could he make Draco go through it all again but this time with the heart-wrenching addition of hope thrown in? That maybe - just maybe - Harry might pull through to live another day? And then another day, and another, and another… Every day uncertain if his Harry was going to wake up the next morning?

Harry refocused his gaze on Draco's hunched and shaking form. He wasn't close enough to hear anything but he could just imagine the devastating sobs that were wracking his body. The blond was visibly heart-broken and utterly wrecked. The man he was in love with was in pain…

Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go...


	16. Falling Slowly (Epilogue)

**_December 31 st 2005_ **

  

“Alright you lot, settle down.” Ron stood and held up a hand to instruct the rowdy table to shush. He looked around at each of his friends in turn, ignoring the raucous going on all around them in the pub, and raised his pint into the air.

“To Harry!” he said loudly.

“To Harry!” they chorused back as drinks were held aloft in salute.

Hermione bumped Draco’s shoulder and he flashed her a small smile before they both took a sip of their drinks. The entire table fell silent as they each drank from their own glass, thinking over all that had happened over the past year.

“Sorry the queue at the bar was mad. What did I miss?”

“Your own toast you pillock,” Neville grinned.

Harry rolled his eyes and collapsed into the booth next to Draco, who immediately took up his hand under the table.

Ron laughed as he settled back into his chair. “Thought I’d better do it while you were in the toilets to save you the embarrassment, but it needed to be done mate, its New Year’s!”

“I think I’ve had enough toasts over the past eight months to last a lifetime,” Harry replied dryly yet unable to repress a smile.

“What in Merlin’s name are those?” Blaise interrupted, staring with something akin to horror at the two shot glasses in front of Harry; each filled with a murky brown liquid.

Harry lifted one of the glasses with a grin. “Treacle-flavoured shots!” he replied enthusiastically.

“Fuck me, that’s disgusting Potter,” Pansy said, red-painted lips curling in revulsion.

Draco abruptly grabbed one of the glasses and downed the whole thing while the others stared on in surprise. He licked his lips with a satisfied smile as he placed the empty glass back down on the table.

“Well?” Blaise asked, looking nauseated.

“Tastes like Harry,” Draco surmised with a smirk.

Harry laughed then threw back the remaining shot while the others wrinkled their faces in various levels of disgust.

“Can we please stop talking about the miracle that is Harry Potter and move on to more important things?” Pansy drawled, swirling the pink champagne in her glass.

“Such as?” Ginny asked with a reproachful frown.

“Such as Neville’s tasty new boyfriend,” she replied with one perfectly arched black brow.

Neville’s cheeks heated as he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “He’s not my boyfriend, we’ve just gone out a few times, that’s all.”

Harry smiled at his friend as he leaned against Draco. “How _is_ Tim?” he asked with a grin, beyond pleased that introducing Tim from Shaftesbury to Neville had ended with the two of them hitting it off.

Neville smiled through his embarrassment. “He’s fine. We’re seeing each other next weekend when he’s home from his parent’s.”

Hermione leaned over Draco to speak to Harry as the rest of the table continued to tease Neville mercilessly.

“How was your check-up at St. Mungo’s yesterday Harry?” she asked quietly. “It was your final one, right?”

Harry nodded, catching Draco’s smile out of the corner of his eye and giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, still no change; my core is one hundred percent intact.”

Hermione smiled. “Thanks to your _soul mate_ ,” she teased with a sly glance at Draco.

Harry returned the grin, his eyes then sliding to Draco’s as they shared a warm look. Any mention of “soul mates” never ceased to send Harry back to that moment at St. Mungo’s on May 3rd when the Healer had given him the best news of his life…

 

_“I don’t know what to tell you Mr. Potter,” the Healer said, frowning down at the chart in his hand and then glancing back up at Harry who was perched on the edge of the hospital bed, white-knuckled fingers clenched around the edge of the thin mattress. “I can’t find any damage to your magical core whatsoever, it’s in perfect condition. It’s very strong, in fact.”_

_Harry shook his head and looked to Draco standing next to him as though he might be able to shed some light on the situation, but Draco appeared just as shell-shocked as he was._

_“But I’ve seen dozens of Healers since 1998 and they **all** confirmed that my core was damaged. Every single one of them.”_

_“When was the last time you saw a Healer about this issue?”_

_Harry exhaled and thought back. “Erm… probably about three years ago.”_

_The Healer nodded as he clutched the clipboard to his chest. “Are you sure your diagnosis was correct? It’s unheard of for someone to recover from core damage.”_

_“I know,” Harry replied, trying not to sound tetchy. “But as I said earlier, I had a little duel with You-Know-Who in which my core **was** damaged and Healers from every conceivable country confirmed that diagnosis. I was meant to die yesterday and I obviously didn’t as I am standing here talking to you and I’m fairly certain that I’m not a fucking ghost.”_

_Draco quickly sat next to him and slipped an arm around tense shoulders._

_Harry sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he apologized to the Healer. “I just want to know what’s going on.”_

_The young Healer smiled in understanding. “It’s fine Mr. Potter. I didn’t examine you five years ago, so I’m not sure what they saw or how extensive the damage was, but according to my very thorough examination today, there is nothing wrong with your core. It’s a very simple test and you are in excellent health.” The Healer then glanced at Draco. “How long have you two been together?”_

_Harry blinked in surprise while Draco frowned._

_“Why is that important?” the Slytherin asked with the hint of a threat, thinking the man was fishing for gossip._

_“Because perhaps this miracle recovery has something to do with you Mr. Malfoy.”_

_“How could Draco have helped?” Harry asked in confusion. “He’s never attempted to heal me-”_

_“Actually I did heal you, after the stalker attack,” Draco interjected, turning to Harry._

_Harry’s eyes widened. “He did,” he said, looking to the Healer. “He healed a large gash in my side, but how…?”_

_The Healer smiled a little and shrugged. “There are some people in the medical profession who believe in ‘bond magic’ or ‘soul mate magic’ if you will. In other words, the unintentional transfer of healing magic which fills in the cracks and heals the other’s injuries.”_

_Harry stared in silence for a minute before recovering enough to speak. “So… by Draco healing a simple wound in my side, he actually healed my core and saved my life?”_

_The Healer couldn’t help but chuckle a little. ”I’m not saying that that’s what happened, or if that incident even had anything to do with it, but according to some it simply could’ve been the fact that the two of you have an exceptionally strong bond.”_

_“And has that ever been proven before?” Draco asked, forehead creased with obvious skepticism._

_“It’s never been scientifically proven,” the Healer admitted, “but I’ve seen a lot of things in my career that I can’t explain with logic. It’s widely known that love holds its own kind of magic, so this could quite possibly be another undiscovered effect of that power.”_

_Harry thought back on how his mother had saved him with love when he was just a baby. Was it possible that Draco had done the same thing?_

_The Healer cleared his throat and raised his quill to Harry’s chart. “What I would suggest Mr. Potter, is for you to schedule a series of check-ups over the next few months so that we may ensure that there is nothing else going on here and that your core is still in pristine health, if that will help put your mind at ease.”_

_Harry nodded, relieved for a practical course of action. “I trust you’ll keep this confidential?”_

_“You have my word Mr. Potter,” the Healer promised as he scratched out some notes on Harry’s paperwork before looking up. “I’ll arrange it so that all of your subsequent check-ups are with me so that as few people as possible are made aware of your situation.”_

_“Thank you.” Harry exhaled, feeling a little light-headed after everything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours._

_“Yes thank you Healer,” Draco reiterated as he reached out to shake his hand._

_“I’ll leave you to it gentlemen,” the Healer said with a smile as he walked to the door of the small examination room and opened it to the noisy hustle and bustle of the hospital’s corridor beyond. ”Have a good day.”_

_Harry slid off of the examination table and collected his jacket as though on autopilot before finally turning to Draco. He opened his mouth but no words would come out as he stared soundlessly at his lover._

_Draco’s eyes softened and he threaded his fingers through Harry’s. “Come on Harry, let’s go home.”_

_Harry nodded, still in shock, but began to feel a small flutter of hope within his chest..._

“It’s never been scientifically proven Granger,” Draco was saying dryly as Harry blinked and came back to himself.

“ _We’ve_ proven it _,”_ Harry piped up with a cheeky grin.

Hermione shook her head. “You and your nine lives Harry Potter,” she said with awe. “So is your Healer studying your case for future reference? Perhaps your situation could help others who have core damage.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah he is but there isn’t much he can study because he never saw my core when it was damaged, and all the Healers I saw were Obliviated, so he can only go off of my word and the fact that my core is now fully healed. There isn’t much to prescribe people though because what are you going to say? Go out and fall in love with your soul mate within the next five years and then you won’t die? I’m not sure it works like that, people might waste all their remaining time desperately trying to make that happen, and it isn’t something you can force.”

Draco squeezed Harry’s hand under the table.

“That’s true, but at least there’s _some_ hope now,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded in agreement, meanwhile giving Draco’s hand a squeeze in return. Ever since Harry’s miraculous recovery, Draco had taken to maintaining some sort of physical contact with him whenever they were together. Harry didn’t blame him one bit and would never deny him whatever sort of comfort he required after everything they’d been through. Truth be told, Harry welcomed the contact just as much; it was like a little reminder that he was still here and to never take that fact for granted again.

When Harry had stepped out of the Forbidden Forest that day and Draco had finally seen him, it was like time stood still as they stared at each other; a million emotions and questions flitting across both of their faces in rapid succession.

Harry smiled to himself as he grasped a pint from the centre of the table and dragged it towards him before taking a sip.

Once they’d established that he was in fact alive and not some sort of ghostly apparition, they’d held each other tightly and said things that were for their ears alone, things that never failed to warm Harry’s heart when he thought back on it.

Harry shook his head and refocused on Neville, who was speaking to the group at large.

“It’s time ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with a cheery grin. “New Year’s resolutions!”

Everyone groaned and grumbled good-naturedly as Neville began handing round the familiar coloured bits of paper.

Harry pulled the paper across the sticky surface of the table along with the offered pencil and chewed his lip as he looked down at the pale pink scrap of paper. He couldn’t help but smile, he’d never thought he’d be here again; writing another one of Neville’s traditional New Year’s Eve resolutions. He had achieved so many things he never believed possible in the past twelve months that he didn’t know if he actually had any goals left to accomplish.

As soon as Harry’s trip to the Healer had tentatively established the fact that he was no longer in danger of dying, he had immediately asked Draco to move in to the Godric’s Hollow cottage with him. The blond hadn’t even hesitated to say yes and they’d moved his things in that very night, with Rose taking up Draco’s vacated flat above the shop.

He still wasn’t sure about a possible career now that he was free to think of such things, so he was happy to continue assisting Draco with his security business until he knew what it was he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

Harry grinned and quickly scribbled something down.

Neville stood and clapped his hands together to get their attention once more. “Okay, looks like everyone is ready. I’ll go first,” he said, opening his slip of green paper and reading aloud, “to focus on relationships more and work less.”

There was a round of applause and whistles as everyone heartily agreed with his goal for the coming year. Neville had never focused on finding someone to share his life with before because he had always been so work-oriented, and it was refreshing to hear him pledge to make time for such things now.

“Luna?” Neville looked to her next.

Luna smiled and lifted her bright yellow paper, her silver starburst earrings catching the light and sparkling under her prettily curled hair. “To say yes.”

“What does that mean?” Ron asked with a frown as she handed her paper over to Neville.

“Peter asked me a question earlier and I’ve decided to say yes,” she replied serenely.

Eyes widened and everyone turned to stare at her long-time boyfriend seated next to her, looking just as gobsmacked as the rest of them.

“Really?” he said to her a little breathlessly.

She nodded with a bright smile and he threw his arms around her while everyone clapped and pounded the table in approval and excitement for their wonderfully unconventional friend.

“Okay Peter, can’t wait to hear yours now,” Neville said with a teasing grin.

Peter laughed, keeping one arm around Luna as he handed over his resolution to Neville. “It was to convince Luna to say yes, so I guess we’ve both already achieved our goals for the coming year.”

Neville laughed as he placed the piece of grey paper in with the others and turned to Pansy. “Next!”

Pansy sighed heavily and with a roll of her eyes half-heartedly replied, “to humour my beloved husband and consider the idea of _maybe_ being ready to have children, this also includes a vow to not get fat while pregnant.”

Everyone laughed and Blaise patted her on the back. “I can’t wait to see you waddling around Pans,” he said mockingly, then ducked when Pansy attempted to swat him upside the head.

“Blaise?” Neville said next.

Blaise cleared his throat and read from his blue paper. “To get over the heartache of my last girlfriend and move on,” he said with surprising candour.

Draco caught his eye and lifted his glass of wine to his friend with a nod of encouragement, knowing how heartbroken he’d been when Laura had ended their relationship a few months ago.

“Good on ya Blaise,” Neville said firmly before turning to Ron.

Ron sighed. “To stop irritating my superiors at work by remembering that they have more experience than me - even if I _was_ Harry Potter’s best friend during the war.”

Harry snorted with laughter. “Please tell me you don’t say shite like that at work.”

Ron smiled in embarrassment. “Well _I_ never mentioned the part about being your best friend, that was Blaise. He thought it should count for something.”

“Only because he’s your partner and would benefit too!” Hermione countered indignantly.

“You’re next Ginny,” Neville said before they could start a proper row.

Ginny smiled and straightened up, purple paper held aloft. “To beat the record for most goals scored by a Chaser this season.”

“Wow that would be impressive Gin,” Ron said as she handed her paper over to Neville.

Ginny shrugged indifferently before taking a sip from her tall pint. “No harm in trying.”

“Hermione?” Neville called on next.

Hermione smiled and glanced at her paper. “To try to remember that perfection does not actually exist, especially in motherhood, and to not sweat the small stuff,” she said concisely.

“Good one,” Neville said with a smile of approval as he took her paper from her. “Draco?”

Harry turned to him curiously, wondering what Draco’s resolution would be. This time last year it was about working less, which he had actually taken to heart.

Draco cleared his throat, fidgeting with his little scrap of white paper. “To continue to take chances because the last one I took turned out to be the best decision of my life.”

Harry swallowed thickly while rubbing his thumb over the back of Draco’s hand still clasped in his underneath the table. He flashed him a smile when Draco glanced his way as he handed the paper over to Neville and the blond’s cheeks tinted pink, looking slightly uncomfortable but unwavering in his open declaration.

“Harry?” Neville prodded.

Harry exhaled, pushing away the choked up feeling that was threatening to cause him embarrassment due to Draco’s heartfelt statement; he’d fallen to pieces enough times in front of these people over the past eight months.

He smiled down at his own piece of paper, once again reflecting on his life since the last New Year’s Eve. He still couldn’t believe he’d escaped certain death - _again_. He couldn’t believe how many times he’d wished with frustration and anger that he could continue on with his life just the way it was - and now he actually could. The euphoria it resulted in was like winning the lottery or being told that you’ve beaten cancer; it was exciting and unbelievable all at once.

Draco wasn’t the only one who had taken a chance and come out the better for it. Harry silently agreed that yielding to Draco’s request to jump in to a relationship together, despite what the future held, was the best decision of his life too.

What more could he ask for?

Harry grinned as he handed over his slip of pale pink paper to Neville.

Neville frowned in confusion, and then his frown turned into an expression of exasperation as he read what was written. “Harry!”

“What does it say?” Draco asked in amusement, glancing at Harry.

Harry looked to Neville expectantly.

Neville rolled his eyes and read aloud with a sigh, “to lose half a stone.”

Everyone but Neville burst out laughing, Ginny spraying some of her drink across the table in her surprise.

“ _Really_?” Neville said, glowering at Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry laughed, leaning against Draco and holding his stomach with his free hand, “but I have yet to achieve that one. Three years running.”

“Trust me, you don’t need to Potter,” Draco murmured into his ear with a lustful smirk.

Neville placed Harry’s resolution into the folder with the others, still looking put out. Neville took his resolution tradition very seriously.

Harry took pity on him and offered to get the next round.

He glanced back at the table as he walked towards the bar to see that the group had already dissolved back into happy chatter; talking of plans for the forthcoming year, Luna and Peter’s wedding, how they all overindulged at Christmas again…

Harry smiled to himself.

It was all so normal, and the thought that he could now join in with talk of the future was the best feeling in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! Hope you enjoyed Falling Slowly, and a very big thank you to everyone who left kudos or a review, it means the world to me to know that people liked my little story enough to take the time to tell me. I tried to keep the fluff/cheese to a minimum - which is really hard in a love story about overcoming death!
> 
> Constance xx


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